


Let the Sun Shine In

by Ainyan42



Series: Liandyn Shepard [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Post-Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ainyan42/pseuds/Ainyan42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the destruction of the Reapers, Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy must cope with the end of the war and figure out where their lives lead now that the impetus which has driven them for the past three years is finally over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beyond the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thane Krios and Commander Shepard - once lovers - have a serious heart to heart. There's just one problem. He's already beyond the sea.

It was sunny. That was the first thing she noticed as she stood there in her hoodie and cargo pants and beat up tac boots. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the sun. The worlds she'd visited - and fought on - for the past several months had been choked with ash and smoke, blackened by the fires of war. But not here. Here, the sun shone down, heating the cool ocean air to just the right temperature. The breeze tugged at the bun tucked against her neck, played with what hair it could tug free. She shifted her feet and felt the sand slide beneath her boots. The sound of the ocean came at her from all directions, and when she turned in a slow circle, she could see she was on an island surrounded by a perfect circle of mist-enshrouded sea. 

As she completed her circuit, she became aware that there was someone standing before her. Although she felt a vague surprise, the emotion was distant, as if it belonged to someone else. Dark green eyes met black, and her voice was curiously normal as she said "Thane." 

"Siha." The drell's gravelly voice was quiet, with a hint of affection as he gazed down at her across the intervening inches. "I am surprised to see you here." He lifted his head, looking around, and she saw the subtle shift of expression that she knew to be a frown for the drell. "I wonder why here, of all places. Why did it not bring you all the way to me?" 

She gazed over Thane's shoulder at the fog shrouded ocean. "Is there more land beyond the fog?" she wondered, curiosity echoing dully through the shroud over her feelings. At his sharp look, she felt a tiny prickle of doubt worm its way down her spine. "Thane?" Her voice took on a hint of edge. 

"I see no fog," he replied reluctantly, reaching out to touch the back of her hand with his fingers. "On the horizon, I see the land beyond the sea, where Irikah awaits my return." He nodded at her intake of breath. "Yes, Siha. Your soul no longer inhabits your body. Yet..." Again he frowned as he studied her, and she took clinical note that his own emotions seemed unaffected by whatever held hers in thrall. "I wonder if they are completely separate. It seems something holds you back. Or," he said suddenly, giving her a piercing look with his dark eyes, "someone." 

"Kaidan," she breathed, with a burst of pain that defied the dampening. As she raised a hand to her heart, Thane nodded, his fingertips still lightly pressed to the backs of hers. 

"I suspect that it is your love for him - with him - him that holds you between worlds," the assassin said somberly. "This place, I think, is that which you humans call Limbo. The Drell and the Hanar have no equivalent, but you are human. I think..." Trailing off, he stared into her eyes. "I think you are here, in this place, because of me. On your... death... your soul found its way to me, but... I don't think it is ready to die, and I think your ties to Kaidan Alenko bind you to him in ways that even our… connection… cannot overcome." 

"I love you, Thane," she said quietly, green eyes unwavering on his own. "I love you, but... Nothing compares to how I feel about Kaidan. I'm sorry. He's..." 

"Your soulmate," Thane finished with a hint of satisfaction. "Yes, I suspected as much in the hospital, when he and I spoke. You are much alike, you and he, and I had no doubts that your soul and his were connected." At her expression, he gave one of his heart-breaking half-smiles and took his hand from hers to touch her cheek. “Do not give me that look, Siha. I know that you believe in an afterlife, and that you believe in a higher power. We have discussed such things before, and you are, after all, here.” He lifted his hand from her cheek to gesture vaguely in the air. 

“Great, wonderful,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “Kaidan and I are soulmates. Right. So, uh, what now? If I’m not quite dead, and not quite alive, what am I? And can I be… alive?... again? If so, how?” As she spoke, she became more agitated, her emotions growing strong enough to pierce the veil, and took a step back to pace. Her boot splashed in water. Looking down hurriedly, she noticed that the tiny island was nearly engulfed in shallow water, and the fog had drawn in until it nearly shrouded the entire sea. Thane himself stood above the water, his feet not quite touching the soft whitecaps that raced beneath them as the tide rushed up to swallow her perch. 

“I suspect, Siha, you have a choice to make.” The fog had nearly enveloped Thane, and his form was indistinct in the cool white mist. It had formed a dome over her, blotting out the sun and leaving the only illumination a faint luminescence from the waves. “Will you go quietly into the night, or will you fight for your life?” 

“Is this real?” she called, straining to see Thane, as the fog wound around her legs, curving through them like a cat welcoming her home. The waves tugged at her boots, sucking the sand from beneath them and trying to draw her into their embrace. 

From somewhere in the distance, Thane’s grave response echoed. “What is real, Siha? Is your soul standing on a sinking island in the middle of a great sea somewhere, or is this simply how your mind envisions the struggle between life and death? Am I here, or am I a memory of one beloved to steady and guide you? More importantly… does it truly matter?” She could hear the amusement, the affection, in his raspy voice. “I love you, Siha. I will see you again, beyond the sea.” His voice trailed off, and as the last of his words echoed in her ears, she knew he was gone. 

“I love you too, Thane,” she whispered, before she pulled one foot up out of the sucking sand, struggling to keep her balance. Her gaze flickered from fog to sea and back again, and she wondered which lead where. If she managed to stay atop the island, afloat in the sea, and let the fog come in, would she live? Or would that be too easy - would it count as going quietly? As she studied the water, now lapping at her knees and threatening to overbalance her at every turn, she noted that what she had thought was a simple bioluminescence common to many oceans was rather an internal illumination, spearing up through the water from the depths. She watched that distant light, imagined the struggle it would take to reach it… 

“I really hope I’m right about this,” she muttered, and, as the water lapped at her thighs and the waves threatened to shove her over, she arched forward into the water, spearing downwards towards the light. 

She could feel the ocean tearing at her, could feel the weight of her hoodie and boots encumbering her, and took precious moments to unstrap the tac boots and leave them to drift downwards, followed by the hoodie, and, for good measure, her pants. Clad in underwear and tank top, she once again resumed her dive. Her breath burned in her chest and she could feel the pressure of the water as she struggled deeper and deeper into the ocean. Although she knew she was gaining ground on the light, the distance never seemed to change. 

Farther and farther she swam down, spots dancing before her eyes as she delved deeper into the ocean. One minute passed, two… another… and her lungs ached for oxygen. Lassitude swept through her body and she knew then that she’d been wrong. Perhaps if she’d stayed above, let the fog take her, it would have taken her home. Instead, she would die here, in this cold sea, far from home and love. 

Her lips parted. She inhaled, water rushing into her lungs. As she drowned in the lifeless sea, her hand stretched forth towards the light. One last thought crossed her mind. _Kaidan…_


	2. From the Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the N7 Special Ops squads has patrol in the heart of London - the heart of ground zero of the Reaper assault. What they discover is beyond what anyone expected.

“There’s nothing here, Sergeant.” Patterson grunted at the disappointed observation from the Salam engineer. He glanced back at the spindly creature, noting the way he still diligently watched his omni-tool for any sign of life. His dark blue eyes swung upwards and out, taking in the rubble and rebar, the persistent smoke and ashes from fires burning barely controlled. It was bad all over London - hell, all over the galaxy - but here…

“I’m not surprised,” the asari to his left muttered, her rifle at the ready and her wary eyes scanning the hundreds of possible ambush points. “This is ground zero. What wasn’t killed by Harbinger’s lasers or those damn husks and cannibals probably got crushed beneath the debris from the aftermath.”

Privately, Patterson agreed, but he merely said, “I know, Saila, but they want us to check. Miracles happen - I mean, we’re still here, right?” Reflexively, the squad glanced upwards, towards the dust-choked sky. Here and there, patches of light shone through the smog, sign that the atmospheric cleansers were finally able to get ahead of the fires. “I don’t think anyone expected that.”

The low growl from his right drew Patterson’s gaze to the hulking krogan, incongruously dressed not in armor, but in a lab coat, with a medi-kit dangling from its shell. The voice that emerged beneath the mask was low and rough, but the higher pitch to it betrayed her gender. “It amazes me how you humans continue to underestimate your own Commander Shepard. We on Tuchanka know her worth - someday, you will too.” In a softer mutter, though still clearly audible, “She should have been krogan, that one. Had the quad for it.”

Patterson echoed the grunt, but didn’t contradict the krogan. He knew as well as any there how much of what had happened these past several months had been a direct result of the leaders' discounting of Commander Shepard’s warnings. “In the end, I’d say she belonged to every race.” The low murmur of agreement from the surrounding squad lifted his heart, and he opened his mouth to expand on what he felt had been a rather profound statement -

“Patterson-Sergeant, this platform is detecting auditory signals that are not consistent with the current environment.” The interruption drew an irritated glance from the human squad leader, though he quickly looked away as soon as his eyes landed on the fifth and final member of the group. It may not be the all-too-familiar flashlight head normally associated with geth platforms, but there was no denying the quarian influence to the current body which the A.I. inhabited.

Gruffly, “What are you hearing? Where are you hearing it?” As he saw the lights on the geth flicker, Patterson held up a hand to forestall the incoming comment. “I know, I know. From which direction are these auditory signals coming?” Another flicker - and this time he _swore_ that the thing was laughing at him - before the geth answered.

“This platform detects a dissonance generally associated with a humanoid expulsion of air from the lungs approximately ten point three meters southwest of this platform’s current position.” The sergeant regarded the geth blankly, but the salarian let out an exclamation and swung in the direction suggested by the A.I., stuttering excitedly.

“Sir, Sergeant, sir! I detect life signs in that direction!” Bewilderment coated the tenor voice, as the salarian’s three fingers flashed over the omni-tool, manipulating the electromagnetic fields that acted as controls for the wrist-borne computer. “It’s faint, and I’d swear that it wasn’t there before, but it’s there now. Sir!”

“I work for a living,” Patterson muttered into the edge of his face mask before gesturing for the squad to turn and make its way in the indicated direction. “Lead the way, Lindris.” With Salia bringing up the rear, her assault rifle swinging as she scanned the debris behind them for any sign of attack, the group scrambled over chunks of concrete and steel, skirted overturned husks of aircars, and skittishly avoided piles of bodies that couldn’t possibly be anything but dead.

As Lindris led them towards the life signs, Patterson noticed a faint blue glow flickering about the krogan’s body - she was readying her biotics. With an approving nod, he did the same, taking a deep breath and pulling on that internal reserve of power. As it flowed through him, the world was sharper; the colors crisper, the sounds more distinct, the scents clearer. On a normal day, on a normal world, holding his biotics was akin to the high from an adrenaline rush - everything seemed better. Here, surrounded by the smoke and ash and rot, it was all he could do to keep from being physically sick. “Steady, Sergeant,” came the low - for a krogan - rumble. “It’s bad, but we might need them.”

“I know, Danaka,” Patterson choked, struggling not to let the sensory input overload his control. Closing his eyes briefly, he sought his center as his old trainer had taught him to do. He hadn’t been as fortunate as some to have attended training on Jump Zero before it had been shut down, nor had he the connections - or strength - to be a part of the Grisholm Academy, but he’d come in on the ground floor of the formation of a new biotic squad, and his commander had taught him many a trick, some of which he used ruthlessly now to ease the strain on his senses.

It took only moments for him to find his center, and when he again opened his eyes, he found himself able to withstand the assault on his senses caused by the sensory boost. In the brief time he'd been struggling with himself, the rest of the squad but Salia, who stood guard at his side, had advanced to the target. "Well?" he asked Lindris, who was scrambling over a large chunk of steel studded permacrete. The salarian's omni-tool was chittering wildly at him, and he came to point at the intersection of two large slabs.

"Here," the slender salamander-like sentient declared, thrusting his hand forward imperiously. Danaka and Patterson exchanged amused glances, then, as one, used their biotics and brute strength to begin clearing away the debris. Occasionally, he felt Salia lend her strength to their efforts, though he knew the commando wouldn't abandon her watch for long. He was also aware of the geth helping by using its platform's power to bend back rebar and clear wires and mesh exposed by the biotics.

"Stop!" Danaka barked suddenly, holding up one blue-lit hand. Patterson could see the flare of her biotics as she infused them amongst the rubble, holding it steady. He eased in behind her, and felt the load settle on his mind as she let him take the burden. The geth began cutting away at the wires surrounding the broken form in the nest of shattered infrastructure, wielding his laser cutter with delicate precision.

"Goddess," the asari whispered from over Patterson's shoulder. "How the hell can he still be alive? Look at him." The marine had no trouble agreeing with the commando. The body they'd unearthed looked just as bad as any of the corpses on the street around them. The battle armor it wore was shattered and twisted. Blood was everywhere, bone stood out in stark relief against dark skin and red flesh, and the faint gurgle he could hear indicated at least one lung puncture.

"Talk about a miracle." Even the krogan's voice was hushed as she began applying medi-gel to breaks and slashes, trying to hit every wound she could find. As she applied the medical stabilizer, she read the vital signs flashing across her omni-tool. "Heartbeat is weak, but steady. Blood pressure is low. I'm seeing a number of breaks - including four ribs, one of which has punctures her left lung. Spine seems intact. No external damage to the brain."

Patterson gaped at the body. "Fuckin' miracle. Wait," and his blue eyes skewed sharply to Danaka. "Did you say ‘her’?"

The krogan's didn't look up from her patient as she sought to stabilize him - her - for transport. "I admit to not being overly familiar with human physiology, but I am fairly certain that what I am seeing here is a human female, approximately 30 to 40 Earth standard years of age, with heavy use of cybernetic implants and grafts. With the databases still down, I can’t verify identity with Alliance military records, but the amount of previous injury this human has sustained is consistent with, and, indeed, in excess of the N7 designation on her uniform. I… I…”

Patterson had already made the connection Danaka just had, and even as the krogan trailed off, staring down at her omni-tool as if not quite believing what she was reading, he was reeling his mind back from the shock. Around them, the squad grew silent as the import of the krogan’s report hit them one by one, even the geth coming to a stand-still. It was all he himself could do not to accidentally turn off his biotics and bring the hollow shell of rubble collapsing down on them.

“Salia.” How was his voice so calm? Shouldn’t he be screaming? Shouldn’t he be exultant, exhilarated, terrified? “Please contact HQ and ask them to send out a van and a medical team? Tell them…” He trailed off, swallowing, and stared down at the shattered form of a ghost, “tell them we found Commander Shepard. And she’s still alive. We need them here ASAP if we want to keep her that way.”

 


	3. Thicker than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander Shepard is alive, but in dire need of medical supplies driven into rarity by the war and its grim demand. Hannah Shepard hopes a way can be found to keep her daughter among the living.

“Remember, not a word.” The tall, stern man in the commodore’s uniform regarded Patterson and his squad with a fierce expression. “It’s pretty damn touch and go right now; the last thing the doctors need is a bunch of idiots swarming the place because of this. Keep silent.”

Patterson raised his hand in salute, acknowledging the order with an additional shake of his head. “Don’t worry, Commodore Erikson, we understand the need for discretion." He gestured subtly to the patch on his shoulder, and the officer's eyes glinted with understanding, and with approval.

"I see. Very well, sergeant, please continue searching for survivors. You and your squad are a credit to the special ops program. Thank you." His hand clipped up in a return salute, and Patterson cut his own away, turned on his heel, and lead the squad back onto the torn-up streets of London. As they moved down the shattered sidewalk, they passed a figure in a thick black coat, hood pulled low over its face, moving at a fast clip.

Erikson watched Patterson’s squad move off, then gestured to the corporal standing guard at the trauma center’s doors. “I don’t want anyone coming in here unless it’s a doctor or brass, do you understand? No one else has any business in this wing at this time.” The soldier acknowledged the order and turned to return to his post. He’d only taken a few steps towards the door when the coat-clad figure swept into the building, nearly colliding with him.

“Excuse me, you can’t go in there.” The corporal reached out to restrain the figure with a hand on their shoulder, only to be halted by a fierce pair of green eyes. A feminine hand came up, peeling back the coat’s collar to reveal the glint of an Admiral’s stars on the uniform beneath. Cowed, the corporal backed off, and the stranger swept past him, heading for the surgery.

Commodore Erikson, watching the exchange, stepped into the figure’s path. “Can I help you, Admiral? As I’m sure you’re aware, this wing has been closed for maintenance,” he added, citing the cover story to keep people away from this particular area of the hospital.

"What I am aware of, Commodore," said the low-voiced woman as she reached up and drew down the hood of her coat, “is that my daughter is in there and there is no force in Heaven or on Earth that will keep me from seeing her.” Admiral Hannah Shepard’s green eyes - so like her daughter’s - stared defiantly at Erikson, and he barely caught himself before he took a step back.

“Admiral Shepard, ma’am. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d been informed.” At her pitying look, he flushed slightly. “Of course, ma’am. They’re still in surgery, and from what I understand, it’s still very critical right now. Your daughter… had a lot of damage. They’ve got the best in there, but they really can’t afford to be disturbed. I can show you to a private lounge, however, where you can wait, and ask someone to come talk with you once they have a chance for a breather.”

Admiral Shepard hesitated, studying the commodore for a long moment. Finally, she inclined her head in acquiescence. “Very well. Show me to this lounge, then go find someone to talk to me. But,” she added warningly, “I won’t wait forever. I… didn’t expect them to ever find her, much less alive. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Understood, Admiral. This way.” Gesturing for her to proceed him through the doors to the inner ward, the commodore allowed her to sweep past him, then fell into lock-step at her side, guiding her through the twisted, deserted halls of the trauma center towards the one bright hive of activity. Before reaching the area where nurses and doctors swarmed like busy bees, however, he steered her into a small, plushly appointed room. Dust and ash lightly coated the furniture - as it stained everything these days, but it was clear some effort had been made to neaten the room. “This is the lounge for visiting officers - or it was before we shut down the ward to all but essential personnel.”

Hannah stood in the room, hands clasped behind her back, knuckles nearly white with tension. “It will do. Please, Commodore, go find someone to tell me what is going on.” This time, the gaze she turned on him was less angry and more pleading. “A doctor, a nurse - I don’t care. Just someone who knows my daughter’s condition and what is being done to care for her.” With a salute, Erikson turned about-face and strode from the room, searching for just the person to help the Admiral.

As soon as she was alone, Hannah Shepard collapsed onto the dusty couch, sinking into the leather with her hands clasped tightly before her. She stared blindly down at the whitened knuckles, thoughts racing in circles. How many more times could she be expected to lose her daughter? Already she’d lived through her child’s death. Nearly two years after, having finally managed to pick up the pieces, she was stunned by news of the Commander’s revival. Then, the Collectors - it had been several long, hard months after the Normandy had traversed the Omega 4 relay that Hannah had heard her daughter was in Alliance custody on Earth. Now…

She had no idea how long she’d sat there in that tiny little waiting room, surrounded by dust and ghosts, when footsteps heralded an approach. An asari with a no-nonsense walk and faded lab coat strode in, coming to a halt before the Admiral and regarding her with thoughtful gray eyes. Bracing herself against the arm of the couch, the admiral rose unsteadily to her feet, gaze fixed on the doctor’s youthful blue face.

“Admiral Shepard?” the asari asked gently, and received a choppy nod in return. “Your daughter is alive.” Letting out an explosive breath, Hannah sank back to the couch. The doctor held up a hand to forestall any questions. “She’s still critical. She broke a lot of bones, lost a lot of blood. I won’t get too technical - “

Hannah twined her fingers together, holding her fisted hands in her lap as she gazed up at the doctor. “I was married to a doctor for thirty years, Doctor,” the admiral replied in a low voice. “I’ve picked up plenty. I need to know, what exactly is wrong with my daughter?”

“I see.” The surgeon studied the admiral for a long moment, then shrugged. “Very well. Your daughter suffered numerous contusions and fractures, including a refracture of her left ulna and radius. She also broke four ribs, three on the left, one on the right, one of which had pierced her left lung.” She watched Hannah close her eyes, and her voice gentled in compassion. “On the good side, there’s no spinal damage and no brain damage that we can pick up. She’s lost some skin, but much of her body was protected by the battle armor. To be completely candid,” she continued, with a hint of incredulity, “we really can thank Cerberus for this tiny miracle. All those damn implants they used on her held her together, started patching her up. Without them, she’d never have made it. As it is, Doctor Michel is guardedly confident. It’s just…”

Hannah tilted her head to the side as the asari paused briefly, eyes narrowed in thought. The admiral let it continue for a moment, then broke in. “Whatever it is, doctor, you’d better tell me. I'm not fragile, I won't break, and I might just be able to help."

“I certainly hope you can help, Admiral,” the surgeon replied briskly. “As I explained earlier, your daughter has lost a lot of blood. More, we are dangerously low on medi-gel. Wars have the annoying tendency to deplete medical supplies. The best option for her is a blood transfusion - and the best donor would be kin. We have people around here who share her blood type, but… well, it’s a lot of blood. And… there’s all her implants and grafts to consider. We would feel a lot safer if it was blood kin dona…”

The doctor trailed off as Admiral Shepard shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry, doctor. We don’t share a blood type. It’s one of the few things that she got from her father, in fact. Physically,” she added with a faint smile. “Mentally, emotionally - well. That’s another story. But no, I can’t help you.”

“Does she have any other blood kin?” At the admiral’s hesitant head shake, the asari pressed. “I know Earth’s a mess right now, and I know you’re down millions… billions, really… but if there’s any chance of aunts or uncles, cousins, siblings… what about her father? Can we reach your husband? For Commander Shepard, I’m sure the Alliance will send out whatever ships are necessary to retrieve him.”

Admiral Shepard hesitated, lips parted. “I - my husband died on the Cairo three years ago,” she murmured, pain in her gaze as she turned it towards her hands again. “I… I don’t know of any other relatives that might be alive. My family tends towards small, and her father’s…”

“She’s all the family her father has left,” said a gravelly voice from the open door. “I’m sorry doctor, Admiral, but I couldn’t help overhearing.” Admiral Steven Hackett’s blue eyes were bland as he regarded Hannah over the asari’s shoulder. “While we all deeply regret the loss of Captain Shepard when the Cairo was lost at the Citadel, it is, perhaps, fortunate that he was not Commander Shepard’s father.” As Hannah Shepard gasped in a breath, straightening abruptly, Admiral Hackett looked straight into her eyes and stated, “I am Commander Shepard’s father, and I am willing to give whatever she needs to see her safe recovery.”

 


	4. Out of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Cerberus brought Shepard back, their implants have made it difficult to keep her sedated - a dire problem for the medical crew trying to keep her alive using ancient techniques and equipment.

_She was drowning. Again. Her lungs were filled with fluid, the pressure on her chest nearly past the point of bearable pain. Light flickered, just out of reach, and she stretched towards it, trying to grasp it. It floated, just beyond her fingertips. If she could just touch it…_

* * *

“... sedatives are wearing already. It’s got to be those implants. Damn Cerberus!”

_ Panic burned away the fog that threatened her mind, chased the paralysis from her limbs. Fingers scrabbled against a rough surface, scraping at cloth, at metal. Flesh gave beneath her hands; her nails bit deep and she was rewarded by the sound of pain. _

“She’s not ready to come off of the intubator. We have to get her settled and stabilized or she’s going to choke.”

_ But she was choking - her throat was blocked, by liquid, by something too solid to swallow. She gagged, trying to reach up, to tear the obstruction from her mouth. Hands grabbed her arms, locked them to her sides, and her spine bowed as she thrashed to and fro in a violent attempt to escape. Her mind screamed in incoherent fury. _

“... she’s pulsing, doctor! Get Ainsley in here, stat! He’s got to get her biotics under lock!”

_ Most of the words meant nothing to her; the hands which gripped her arms and head were the enemy. She struggled against the restraint, abused muscles screaming as she tried to twist away from the grasping fingers. Babbling voices filled her ears, and she choked and spluttered as she felt the press of a pressure syringe against her throat. _

“No, no, NO!”

_ She fought, she screamed, even as the darkness swallowed the light. She flared her biotics, feeling the power pulse through her to push off the threatening twilight. Something pressed down on that place in her mind where power eddied and swirled, contracting it into a tight ball and sealing it away from her control. She screamed again, and the sound of her hoarse voice followed her down into silent night. _

* * *

“What happened, doctor?” Hannah stood outside of her daughter’s room, Hackett’s hand on her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped tight around her chest, her dark skin peaked and pale in the harsh hospital lights. “What is going on with my daughter?”

Doctor Michel rubbed her hand against her forehead, fingers pressing into the skin at her temples as she regarded the Admirals. “She fights the sedatives,” the surgeon finally replied in her accented voice. “The implants, they burn it away at an increasing rate, and it is growing more difficult to keep her under without giving her more than is healthy for her in this condition. Just another day or so, time to get the supplies promised here, to get her lungs healed enough to get her off of that infernal antique. I only hope she gives us that long.”

Green eyes and blue tracked past the doctor, towards the closed room where more hospital staff swarmed around the commander’s supine body, trying to repair the damage done by her struggles. They could see the flurry of movement through the glass, watched as they tied restraints about her arms and legs to keep her from injuring herself. “What she’s been through,” Hackett murmured into the silence, his gravelly voice grave.

“So much. Too much, I would say. Not enough, she would say.” Hannah’s quiet voice held hints of her grief as she watched the events unfolding in the commander’s room. “She’s always pushed herself so hard, fretted that it wasn’t hard enough. It’s no one’s fault,” the admiral added, anticipating Hackett’s bitter response. “If it hadn’t been you, it would have been another. She’s struggled her life through to meet standards no one else ever could have, standards she set herself. We have to respect her choices.”

Hackett bowed his head, closing his eyes at the truth of the woman’s words as his fingers tightened about her shoulder. “Thank you.” He didn’t expand on his words, and she didn’t question them. They both understood what was unsaid.

Doctor Michel watched them quietly, eyes narrowed in thought, then she turned as the door cycled open and the asari doctor emerged, stripping off gloves and mask. “She’s down, but I can’t say for how long. Have you heard anything about those supplies? Goddess, why can’t we just tell them why we need them? If they knew…”

“If they knew,” Hackett replied sharply, his chin jerking up and his icy eyes pinning the doctor, “we’d be swarmed under. Too many people know about her as it is. She needs to recuperate before we throw her to the wolves.” As both doctors stared at him, he gave an impatient shake of his head. “She’s a legend. The woman who united the galaxy and destroyed the Reapers. She saved worlds, doctors. Do you think that people wouldn’t descend on us by the thousands if it meant catching a glimpse of The Commander?”

Michel shook her head, and the asari let out a sigh. “No, you’re right of course, Admiral. I’ve been told the shipment should be here by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, Dirana,” replied the human doctor. “I’ll keep Ainsley in there to watch for flares, and he’ll keep her on a sedative drip.” At the questioning looks from the soldiers, she explained, “Her biotics keep flaring. Doctor Ainsley is also a biotic, and can keep hers under check. If he can keep her mind quiet, maybe the sedative drip will be enough to keep her down.”

“Goddess make it so,” the asari murmured, lifting a hand to run over the stiff tentacles on her head. “Well. Unless she wakes up again, we’ve done all we can for tonight. Go get some sleep, Chloe. I’ll stay here; Ainsley can contact me if he needs any help. Admirals,” Dirana added, turning her gray gaze on the pair, “you need to sleep as well. There’s plenty of rooms here,” she added, with a wry twist of her lips, “as we’ve only the one patient to see to. Please, get some rest. Tomorrow… well, Goddess bring tomorrow we’ll see an end to this nightmare once and for all.”

“Thank you, doctors,” Admiral Shepard murmured, reaching out her hand to press first Michel, then Dirana’s fingers in a brief, tight grip. “We’ll… just be over here.” She gestured towards the room next to their daughter’s. “Please. Tell us when…”

Doctor Michel nodded, pressing Shepard’s fingers back. “We will, Admiral. I promise.”

* * *

_She swam in nothingness. She knew she should feel threatened, but all she felt was peace. It was so quiet here, and yet, the living darkness breathed. It was a patient sensation, enveloping her in a warm liquid blanket. The gentle pulsing twilight held her, cradled her, soothed away the fear of before. Content to stay right here, she dropped below the horizon, consciousness sliding away into sleep. Only one last thought invaded the dark, before it and she faded away._

Kaidan...

 


	5. Into the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For three weeks, Commander Shepard has been kept under while her body heals the grievous injuries sustained during the Final Battle. Now, it's time.

_She swam out of the darkness. Unlike her previous experience with the inky nothingness that held her mind in check, there was no pain, no panic. Only that constant calm. As she reached towards the light, she felt it reach back for her, envelop her in warmth and comfort, and she smiled. It was time…_

* * *

Night shifted to twilight, evening to dawn, time flowing backwards as her mind drew itself from its comforting, enveloping cocoon. Soft light beat against her eyelids as thoughts coalesced, solidified into consciousness. Her eyes flickered open, squinting against the brightness overhead, and she raised her hand to cover them - or rather, tried to. Her wrists strained against the thick straps confining them, and she made an inarticulate sound of protest, barely audible over the steady beep and hum of machinery and computers.

“Honey?” The voice was soft and hesitant, and she knew she should know it. Her thoughts scrambled in panic, until a corner of her mind offered up the answer.

“Mom?” So raw, the voice that rasped through her parted lips. Not hers - it couldn’t be what she remembered as the vibrant, commanding tones she was so used to hearing from herself. This word was weak, scratchy, and she coughed to clear her throat, then coughed again as her breath caught in abraded and abused lungs.

A shape appeared at her side, indistinct in the gloom. “Here, honey,” came that low, comforting voice. Mom. Her thoughts spoke the word, though she kept it behind her teeth, instead taking the offered glass with its jaunty straw peeking over the top. Wrapping her lips around the tube, she gulped greedily at the water, croaking a complaint as Hannah pulled the glass away. “Not too fast,” the woman chided.

“Can’t. Move.” So thready, that voice, and her heart sped in panic, the soft, steady beeping matching the increase in tempo perfectly. She saw her mother’s head moved, imagined her turning to stare at some machine or another. “Sorry.” Closing her eyes, she sought to breathe, to pull herself back under control. She’d been down often enough to know the sound of a med-bay heart monitor, even if this place felt wrong. “Why... you… Normandy?”

There was a pause, and even with her eyes closed, she could feel her mother stiffen beside her, her body going still. “We’re not on the Normandy,” Hannah Shepard finally replied, and as her daughter opened her eyes again, she shifted to meet them, trying not to show the concern she felt flood her at the sight of those dim, glassy orbs. “We’re in a hospital.” At the look of confusion that greeted the statement, she reached out to place her fingertips on the back of the younger woman’s hand. “In London. On Earth.”

“Earth.” There was something terribly important about that word. Tension filled her muscles as she strained to remember. “Earth…” Slowly, reluctantly, her mind released the memories, hesitantly allowing them to flood forth. “The… Reapers! I can’t - I have to - “ She jerked her wrists and ankles, struggling against the restraint as her words dissolved into incoherent mewling. She heard the door cycle open through her panic, but her thoughts could only focus on one thing - the war. She couldn’t be here. “I need to stop them!” She heard the pleading, hated it, and used it nonetheless in the attempt to secure her release.

A hand came down, cool fingers touching her forehead, and she stilled, drawing in ragged breaths. Her eyes tracked upwards aimlessly, focusing on the foggy shape above her. “Commander Shepard.” So familiar, that accent. Instantly recognizable. A lifetime spent as a doctor’s daughter distilled into a single reaction: calm. “Steady. Do you know who I am?”

“Doctor Michel. Citadel. No… Earth?” Too many memories remained locked away, her mind stubbornly refusing to release them to her - but some images leaked forth; streets and buildings reduced to rubble. Faces mutated by horror, stretched into mindless screams. A bright light. A cold hand on her soul. The choice… “Is it… over?” Surely not. Years - eons - could not distill to one moment. Could they?

Movement caught her attention, and she watched as the shape to her left - Mom - shuffled closer, felt gentle fingers tighten so briefly on her hand. “There’s still some rearguard action - pockets of resistance, mostly from ex-Cerberus personnel, but… yes. You did it, my girl.” The voice her mind associated with comfort, home, and love choked and wavered, filled with equal parts pride and grief. “I don’t know how - I don’t want to know how - but you saved us all.”

Relief flooded through her; tense muscles went limp and her head lolled against the pillow. She felt dampness on her cheeks - tears, her mind soothed as she started to panic, and she settled into release, letting the silent weeping cleanse her soul. Catharsis. Her thoughts whispered the word.

As she wept, she felt the tugs at wrists and ankles as the doctor and her mother released the restraints. The gentle pressure of fingers massaged into abused joints, soothing away the ache of tension. Her mother was murmuring, a constant stream of encouragement and consolation. “It’s okay, honey. My baby, it’s okay.” The same phrases repeated over and over, beating in time with the pulse of tears spilling down her cheeks, the heaving of her lungs as she sobbed.

It was years, days, hours - no, mere moments - before the purge ended, and she lay against her soaked pillow, body limp from exhaustion, eyes stinging. She felt the doctor’s fingers on her temples, rubbing in gentle circles, and her mother’s hands on hers, gripping tightly. She took one careful breath, than another, feeling them burn into her lungs. “I… how bad?”

“Bad enough,” Doctor Michel replied, fingers stilling briefly before returning to their soothing. “You took a lot of damage, lost a lot of blood. Broke a few things. Tore yourself up pretty good. Nothing you shouldn’t be used to,” she added, with a weak chuckle that did nothing to mask the underlying concern. “We’ve got you mostly patched up, but… supplies are limited, times being what they are, and I’m afraid a good many of your more minor injuries have to heal naturally. But you’re strong, resilient… I don’t foresee any complications. You just have to take things easy for a bit.”

Shepard allowed her eyes to slide up to the doctor, studying the blurring shape, until the discordant image forced her to shut her eyes. Swallowing against a faint sensation of nausea, she croaked out, "My eyes, how long?" The silence that greeted her question was thunderous, and she cracked her eyelids again, gaze tracking first to her mother, then to Michel. "Doctor?"

"What is wrong with your eyes?" Michel asked carefully, her fingers continuing to work at Shepard's temples. She watched the commander's green eyes track around the room, noted the glassiness of the woman's gaze, the unfocused look. While the pupils were appropriately sized and seemed to react well to the light, it was clear that Shepard wasn't able to focus clearly.

Dipping a hand into her pocket, she came up with a thin old-fashioned flashlight. Shepard followed the thin beam of light, flinching slightly as it shone into her eyes. "Can't focus on anything. S'all blurry." She closed her eyes again as soon as the light was switched off. "Not dizzy. Just... Fuzzed."

Shaking her head, Doctor Michell dropped the light back into her pocket. "I'm not certain," she answered honestly. "I can say that none of our tests showed damage to your eyes or brain, so this is likely just a side-effect of some treatment. I doubt it will bother you for long." She reached down to smooth Shepard's hair back from her head. "You should get some rest, Commander."

"All I've done is sleep," Shepard replied tetchilly, scowling at the ceiling. "For, like...uhm... How long?" Looking momentarily nonplussed, the soldier dropped her eyes, staring down the length of her sheet-covered body. "I don't even know how long I've been here," she murmured hoarsely. "I need to remember..."

Michel traded a look with Hannah, tilting her head to one side. The Admiral shrugged slightly and shook her head before looking down at her daughter's supine form. "It's been three weeks since the Battle of London," the commander's mother finally replied. She caught the younger woman's shoulder before she could bolt upright. "It'll be another several weeks before you're ready to leave that bed, young lady. The doctor told you, there is a lot of natural healing you have to do. Are you going to give your doctors trouble?"

"Probably," the commander replied, with just the barest hint of chuckle under the raw throat throatiness. "I do try, but... Too much to do to waste time laying about." She turned her unfocused gaze on her mother, frowning slightly. "There's something... I need to know..." Trailing off, Shepard stared moodily at the far wall, trying unsuccessfully to convince her exhausted mind to cough up a hint to what her subconscious is so concerned about.

Hannah leaned down, pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead. "Sleep, honey," she murmured, running the back of her fingers down the younger woman's cheeks to encourage her to shut her eyes. As she felt the tension of wakefulness seep from her daughter's body, she quietly murmured a half-remembered song. "Go to sleep, little bird, you will fly more on the morrow..."

* * *

_ As she allowed the dark cloud to envelop her thoughts and mind once more, she had a brief flash of memory - a sensation as much as a sight. Melting brown eyes. Dark, wavy hair. A strong, stubborn chin and lips she knew tasted like honey. Comfort. Love. Respect... _

_ Confusion. _

_...Kaidan? _


	6. Inside the Bubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month and change since the Final Battle, and no one's heard from the Normandy - until today.

"Admiral Hackett, priority communication coming in over the QEC from Sur'Kesh." The craggy-faced man placed the datapad down on his desk, where it was lost in the others strewn across the surface. Pushing back his chair, he rose to his feet, rubbing his fingers together to ease the stiffness and pain that had become a constant companion these days.

"I'm on my way, Dana." He strode through the door of his office - once some doctor's office that he had co-opted for his own use, and strode down the hallway towards the connection to the next wing over. With the importance of keeping Shepard’s recovery a secret, the admiral had chosen to co-opt part of the open wing of the hospital for his wardroom and command center, while keeping his personal offices near the commander’s room.

He strode down the hall, absently acknowledging the salutes from those he passed. His communications officer stood at the door of the room housing the QEC, drawing herself to attention and saluting as he passed. As soon as he entered the room, she slipped out, letting the door cycle shut to give him privacy.

Stepping up to the holographic display, he tapped a few keys, accepting the call. A figure slowly formed in the well of the device, resolving into a tall, well built man with a strong jaw, scruffy hair, and a week or so's worth of beard growth. His slightly tattered uniform bore the rank insignia of a Marine major. "Admiral Hackett, sir. Thank you for taking my call."

Admiral took a deep breath before responding gravely, "Major Alenko, you have no idea how good it is to hear from you." Although the time lag through the QEC was non-existent, especially given that Sur'Kesh was Earth's nearest neighbor, spatially speaking, there was a clear hesitation before the major responded.

"Yes sir. We had some... problems. We lost our engines and much of our ship control coming through the relay from Earth. We've just recently gotten enough back online to have the QEC up and running." The Admiral heard what hadn't been said; the blast must have knocked out the ship's A.I. - which he wasn't supposed to know about, and they'd only now either gotten her back up and running, or figured out how to bypass her systems.

"How soon before you can make it back? Having the Normandy back in system would be a huge boost for everyone, and I'd really like to find out what happened at the end." There was another pause, and Hackett watched the emotions flow over the Major's face: hope, fear, pain, grief.

Major Alenko took a deep breath, dropping his gaze down as he placed his hands on the railing before him, leaning forward. "Adams and Tali think another two weeks to get the physical repairs done to the ship. EDI and Daniels are pretty sure they'll have the software done by then, too. Then we just need to find some fuel and get into space. Probably looking at another few months once we're spaceborne, as I understand the relays are still down."

"They are, although the asari and salarians are optimistic that we'll have some of them up and running within six to eight months. So looking at about, say, three to four months and you'll be home? I imagine there will be a lot of very happy people to have the crew of the Normandy home."

Major Alenko nodded soberly, his eyes locked on the Admiral's face. "That's the current estimate, sir." There was another hesitation, then he cleared his throat. "Please, Admiral. The commander... Shepard... has there been... have you heard if...?"

Hackett watched the major's hopeful face, imagined how tightly the man was gripping the bar. Compassion rose, and was strangled. Even with the Normandy so far out, he just couldn't risk Shepard's exposure, not yet. But even knowing that he didn't dare confirm the commander's survival, he couldn't bring himself to outright deny the man. "We look forward to your safe arrival, major," the Admiral responded gravely.

Alenko's face froze on an expression of painful hope and quiet despair, then he let out a breath and drew himself up, saluting. "Aye aye, Admiral. We'll be home as soon as we can."

"I hope so," Admiral Hackett responded, and watched as Alenko's form faded away. To the empty room, he added softly, "Son."

Very little escaped Hackett. And most of the "secrets" he was aware of when it came to the Normandy’s crew he wholly approved of. Especially his daughter's choice of mate.

* * *

"Three to four months?" Shepard's glassy gaze was riveted on Hackett's form as she sat on the side of the workout bench, weights dangling in her hands. The Admiral had interrupted one of the woman's constant workouts. Holding out a bottle of water to her, he sat on a nearby chair, nodding his head.

"That's what Major Alenko thinks, and I trust his judgement, and that of his engineers." He didn't miss the way her eyes lit up at the mention of the marine, though he kept his expression bland. “He’s done well, stepping into your shoes. Seems to have things running smoothly. Mostly, it’s just a matter of getting things up and running, then they have to cross from the Annos Basin to the Sol cluster.” He shook his head. “Fortunately, Sur’Kesh isn’t too far, as the ship flies - that’s why we chose it as the fleet rendezvous after Earth.”

Taking the bottle of water, Shepard thumbed the cap back, then drank deeply. It had been nearly two months since she’d been brought in, and her recovery was swift. Although she had yet to regain much of the weight she’d lost during the race against the Reapers and her subsequent hospitalization in the aftermath, her constant workouts had rebuilt much of her muscle, and her reflexes and timing were as good as ever. As Hackett studied her face, however, he felt a pang at the continued glaze over her eyes - he knew she had yet to recover her clarity of vision, and that the fuzziness and distortion was a source of depression for the vital young woman. “As Liara once said,” the commander replied with admirable calm, “the major has become very capable. He’s an excellent XO - he would make an equally excellent commander.”

Hackett didn’t miss the faint hesitation at the commander’s praise, knowing that it stemmed not from a reluctance to praise a middling soldier, but rather a desire to keep the brass from taking his much-needed talents from her. “He did very well with his Biotic squadrons,” the admiral replied smoothly, and she hummed in her throat, nodding.

“I’d forgotten he’d been in command of the Biotics before I, uh… co-opted him for the Normandy.” Not a flicker of guilt for that, either, Hackett noticed, amused. “Well. Three to four months,” she repeated, staring off into space. “I guess I’d better step things up.”

Hackett cleared his throat. “Shepard, you can’t take command of the Normandy again until your eyes heal,” he murmured, gazing steadily on her face even as she violently flinched back. “I don’t plan to give her to anyone else - for one thing, our engineers are going to want to go over her with a fine-tooth comb to make sure she’s back in working condition, and that will take time, but we need to find out what’s going on up here,” and he tapped the side of his head, “before you can step back into your old boots.”

“Admiral - “ Shepard cut off as he raised a hand, gazing at him in quiet despair.

“I didn’t say you wouldn’t get the Normandy back, commander,” Hackett replied sternly, “I simply said that you can’t command her until you’re in top shape again. Doctor Michel thinks it may be something to do with your implants. They’ve run all the tests they could, but they have no idea what Cerberus did with you, and unfortunately, Ms. Lawson seems to be incommunicado. We’ve left messages for her across Earth - she’ll hear, eventually, I’m certain. And Doctor Chakwas knows the setup as well - once she’s back in station, we’ll make sure that you’re her first priority.”

Shepard let out a long breath, took a sip of water. “I - thank you, Admiral. I know,” she added, with a wry twist of her lips, “I shouldn’t complain. I’m lucky to be here, lucky you haven’t just given up on me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the work you guys are pouring into me, when there’s so much else going on out there.”

“You listen to me, Commander,” Hackett replied fiercely, leaning forward, “there is nothing else out there that is more important to me - to the Alliance - than making certain you get the best care. We’ve got scientists from all races on the relays. Engineers and architects from a dozen worlds are reshaping Earth’s cities, and have promised to do the same for each of the homeworlds as the relays come online. We have asari, salarians, turians, krogan, volus, elcor, and even batarians out there walking the streets of London and helping rebuild. By the time this is over, Earth won’t just be home to the human race, but to all races. And we owe that all to you. No,” he added sharply, as she started to interrupt, “deny it all you want, it was your efforts - and the efforts of your amazing, and incredibly diverse, crew that brought the races together in such a way that even with the end of the war, we won’t see a dissolution of this Alliance. For years, you were scorned and dismissed - and when every single one of your predictions came true, you didn’t rub it in our faces or make demands. You simply buckled down and worked your ass off making certain that every race was ready to face the threat, and that every race stood together to do so.”

“You always believed in me.” Shepard’s voice was quiet as she stared into his face, water bottle dangling limply from her fingers. “From the first, you always believed in me. You never hesitated to listen, never hesitated to give me what I needed for the job. It was people like you - the people who didn’t think I was a lunatic - that made it possible for me to do what had to be done, no matter the cost.”

Hackett grunted. “Of course I believed in you, commander. I’ve watched you grow as a marine and as a woman since you first enlisted.” And before - but he was hardly going to share that with her. “As with any spacer kid, we were aware of your potential before you joined up. Once you did, it was a simple matter of making certain tabs were kept. You proved yourself on Elysium, and again when you made N7. You’ve made your share of mistakes, and you’ve always owned up to them and tried to rectify them. If you said that there was some big bad out there causing our problems, then I believed you, because I trusted you.”

“Thank you, sir,” came the humble reply, as Shepard dropped her gaze and twisted the water bottle in her hands. “I can’t tell you what your support - and Admiral Anderson’s support - meant to me while I was struggling against Saren, against the Collectors. I don’t know if I could have done what I did if you had turned your back on me.”

“Well,” Hackett said, “just keep the galactic wars to a minimum for a while, and I think we’ll all be good.”

Shepard lifted her head, startled by the quip, and gave a hesitant smile as she saw the amusement on the Admiral’s face. Although she’d grown used to some candor from Hackett over the past month or so since she’d been awake and lucid, there was always some surprise whenever he let his usual grave demeanor drop in her presence. “Don’t worry, sir. As long as we don’t see anything more stressful than a galaxy-wide pirate incursion or the Yahg discovering spaceflight, I think we’ll be okay.”

The commander’s response surprised a sharp bark of laughter from the admiral, and he rose to his feet, waving her down as she started to stand. “No, go back to your workout, commander. I have some things I need to see to. I just wanted to keep you updated on the Normandy - I know how eager you are to see your ship and crew returned home.” Reaching out, he gripped her shoulder briefly. “She’ll be here before you know it.”

“ Yes sir,” Shepard replied, swallowing back a surge of emotion at the thought of her ship - her crew - her Kaidan - back within arm’s reach. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“We all are, Commander. We all are.” Nodding his head, he turned and strode from her quarters, leaving her staring into space, consumed by memories and hope.

 


	7. Under the Radar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy is back in the Sol system, and her crew is ready for a little leave.

It was just shy of four months when the Normandy entered the Sol system - three hours later, three months and twenty-seven days after Major Kaidan Alenko contacted Admiral Hackett, she soared into Earth orbit.

"Major, Admiral Hackett is on the vid com for you." Kaidan looked up from the galaxy map, turned his head to regard Traynor. The young com engineer could barely suppress her excitement as she studied him, and he sent her a brief smile.

"On my way." His normally husky voice had taken on an extra hoarseness since the aftermath of the Reaper attack, and the specialist's expression shifted towards compassionate. She reached out to place her fingers on his wrist briefly, and he covered them, squeezing. "Tell Joker to get everyone moving. I want this ship cleared as soon as we've docked. We'll let the Alliance clean her up and get her running ship-shape again."

"Aye aye, Major," Traynor replied, but Alenko was already at the door of the war room and through it. He skirted around the asset table - now blank, with the assets, and Crucible, spent. He stepped up into the QEC and reached out to tap the command sequence that would connect the Normandy to Earth's military headquarters.

Admiral Hackett's form swam into being, focusing keenly on the major as Alenko came to attention. "Major," Hackett's gravelly voice greeted. "You made good time getting here. I'm pleased to see the Normandy come home where she belongs." He lifted his hand to return the younger man's salute.

"Admiral. Just need to know where you want us." Dropping his arm and his formal posture, Alenko leaned on the rail and studied his superior keenly.

Hackett nodded. "Yes. We have a space dock set up for the Normandy. I'll send coordinates to your flight lieutenant. We'll have shuttles sent up to bring your crew down for some well-deserved leave. I would like it, however, if you and your squad would come down in one of your shuttles to this location," and the secondary holographic display showed a map detailing coordinates of the landing area. "Let's get you some rest before we let the crowds descend."

"That bad?" Alenko asked, startled. Hackett gave one of his rare half-smiles.

"Let's just say the Galaxy is ready to hail its heroes, but I want them ready to handle it." He saw the stricken look on Alenko's face and frowned thoughtfully. "What is it, Major?"

Alenko swallowed and felt his fingers tighten around the rail. He glanced down to his whitened knuckles and swallowed again. "We're not the heroes, Admiral," he replied harshly, keeping his eyes on his own hands. "All we did was run away when she needed us most."

"Son," Hackett replied, startling Alenko into looking at him, "you and your crew did more for this galaxy than every fleet combined. Yes, she is probably the one who gave, and sacrificed, the most, but don't discount the work you and your people put in over the past three years."

"I - " Alenko bit off his response, teeth clenching slightly as he choked back his words. "Yes, sir." Taking a deep breath,  he uncurled his hands and stepped back to attention, saluting the holographic flag officer before him. "Sir, we'll be docked within the quarter hour and on our way as soon as possible."

Admiral Hackett returned the salute. "I look forward to seeing you, Major. Hackett out."

* * *

"I can't believe we're back on Earth." Tali'Zorah's rich, exotically accented voice filled the back of the shuttle as the squad pressed in. Tucked at her side, one arm about her waist - ostensibly to support her - Garrus Vakarian chuckled.

"Rather be on Palaven, but that will come. I imagine all of the homeworlds - including Rannoch - will have their relays fixed first. It'll just be nice to get a shower or three and have some real dextro food." The turian's mandibles tilted in the way those around him knew meant he was grinning.

James Vega squeezed in between the quarian and Liara, eliciting a good-natured poke from the asari. He grinned down at her, then turned his keen dark gaze on the co-pilot's seat, where Alenko sat. "Hackett gonna be pissed when he finds out Joker refused to leave the ship?"

"Probably not," the pilot, Cortez, responded when Kaidan didn't answer. "After what happened last time he went on leave, I don't blame him." The swarthy lieutenant sent a sideways glance towards his Major, sighed when he saw the haunted expression on the young man's face.

Liara edged around Vega, reaching through the entrance to the cockpit to lay a hand on Alenko's shoulder. The rest of the squad grew quiet. Tali rested her head on Garrus's shoulder, Traynor - brought along at the insistence of the team - bit her lip. Vega shifted and opened his mouth, then closed it again awkwardly. The silence stretched on for several heartbeats. Then the Major sighed. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I'm not trying to ruin this for you guys."

The asari slipped in behind his seat and leaned down to hug his shoulders. "If anyone in this galaxy understands, Kaidan, it's us," Vakarian said from where he held Tali. "No one here blames you at all." The murmurs of agreement were instant and sincere. "I'm having trouble believing it's all real..."

"Coming in for a landing," Cortez announced into the silence. "Remember, keep your omni-tools handy. Anyone needs a meet, just signal. We'll be there."

"Hell yeah," Vega grunted enthusiastically. "Ain't nothing gonna keep me from you guys if you call. Drinks on me."

As the shuttle swooped in, the group grew silent again, this time at the sight of the lingering destruction that still stained London's streets. Although rebuilding had begun and a great deal of the cleanup had been finished, ruined buildings and half-finished construction gave mute testament to the horror of that final attack on Earth. Even after the screen had gone blank once Cortez made the turn into the underground area Hackett had indicated for them to land, most of the squad continued to stare at it in silent distress.

The shuttle settled to the ground with a bump and the door hissed open. The squad stood, staring at each other, before Vega pushed through them and jumped out. Garrus followed, turning to help Tali and Liara down, then Traynor. Cortez finished the post-flight check, then turned to Alenko, who still sat silently in the co-pilot’s seat. “Sir,” he said quietly, waiting until those melting brown eyes flicked up to meet his, “it’s time.”

Taking a deep breath, Major Alenko pushed himself out of his chair. He stood still for a moment, staring back into the belly of the shuttle, then moved purposefully out of the door. He’d only gotten a few steps from the Kodiak’s side before a young aide detached herself from the group of nearby marines helping to get the Normandy’s crew settled. “Major Alenko, Admiral Hackett sent me to ask you and General Vakarian to join him at his command center.” For all the words were phrased as a pretty request, it was clear from her attitude that she expected the pair to comply. Human eyes met turian as Kaidan and Garrus traded puzzled glances, then the major looked back to the aide.

“Very well,” he said softly, falling in at her side, Garrus to his left, “lead on.”

* * *

The aide led them through a twisting warren of underground hallways. When pressed with questions about the route, she replied with a simple, “We’re avoiding anyone who might recognize you two,” before falling silent and refusing to answer any more questions. Recognizing Hackett’s hand behind her silence, Alenko and Vakarian matched it, and the trio moved on through the maze.

The trek came to an end when they reached a door lock between wings. The aide stepped to the side and swiped open the lock, but didn’t follow as the major and the turian stepped through once the door cycled open. “Admiral Hackett will meet you inside. Good luck, sirs.” She offered them both an impersonal smile just before the door cycled closed behind them.

They weren’t left to wait long; Hackett approached them within minutes, nodding to acknowledge the salutes from the pair. “Major, General, I’m very glad you were able to join me today. I promise I will try to keep this brief so you two can get settled in and settled down. I know you’ve been through a lot already.” Alenko nodded slowly; he could sense a curious burning anticipation behind the Admiral’s calm words. With no hint as to what was going on, however, he could only fall in behind his superior as Hackett led the pair down the hallway.

The halls were oddly deserted, puzzling the major. The aide had called this Hackett’s command center, but there was none of the controlled chaos that Alenko generally associated with such. The few people he did see as they passed through the halls of the hospital were lab-coated doctors or men and women in medical uniforms - no military presence at all, adding to his confusion.

They turned down a hall, passing open rooms that might have once been patient rooms, but seemed to have been converted to living quarters instead, given the amount of personal gear that they could see inside as they passed. Reaching the end of the hall, they stopped before a closed door, and Hackett cleared his throat. “Just in here,” he said gruffly, and pressed the button to cycle open the door.

The admiral stepped back, gesturing for the pair to step inside first, and Alenko led Vakarian into the room. It was a bit larger than the other patient rooms, but in turn, more spartan. Only a few personal effects could be seen; a punching bag, a set of weights, some pictures on the wall. As they entered, there was the sound of a chair hissing back, then a figure stepped from an alcove holding a desk into the light.

Vakarian rammed into Alenko when the major came to an abrupt halt. He felt the tension sizzling through his friend’s frame and reached out to grip the human’s shoulder. “Kaidan?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning ahead to see what had alarmed his companion. When he, too, saw the figure, he felt his mandibles spread and his jaw drop. “I - I…”

“Li - Shepard,” Alenko croaked, husky voice hoarse with shock. Behind him, he heard a gravelly cough, and his jaw snapped shut. “Commander,” he said weakly, recalling the admiral’s presence. “I - you’re… alive.”

“General Vakarian,” Hackett said from behind the pair, and the turian closed his mouth with an effort and turned to face the admiral. “Perhaps you would care to join me in my office to start the debriefing? I’m sure the major and commander will join us soon, but let’s give them a chance to say hello.” Despite the bland tone of the admiral’s voice, there was a distinct edge of amusement.

“Uh - yes, sir. Of course.” Still reeling slightly from shock, Garrus Vakarian squeezed Alenko’s shoulder once, then backed away, to follow Admiral Hackett out of the room. The door cycled closed behind them, leaving Commander Shepard and Kaidan Alenko alone for the first time in nearly half a year.

 


	8. Falling Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard reunite for the first time since the end of the Reaper War.

Time slowed to a standstill as Kaidan and Shepard regarded each other across the few feet that separated them. From the tension sizzling in the air, the distance might as well have been miles. He couldn't breathe; could barely think. He'd hoped - they'd all hoped, but... There had never been a sign that Shepard had survived the final battle. Even the STG forces they'd spoken to on Sur'Kesh, once they'd gotten the Normandy to the staging area, had never so much as hinted that the commander still lived.

She watched him anxiously, her mind filling in where her traitorous vision fuzzed and distorted his features. Memory gave her his chocolate eyes and strong, stubborn chin; his broad jaw and soft lips. Through the fog, she could see additional lines seaming his face, knew there was more silver in his dark hair. She shifted from foot to foot, arms tucked awkwardly behind her as she stared at him, wary of his reaction. Last time she'd come back from the dead, Horizon had been the result. As the moment stretched on towards infinity, however, her never-great store of patience gave. "Kaidan?" she croaked.

That single word broke his stasis, and with a choked sob, Kaidan covered the gap in two swift strides. He reached out, hands gripping her shoulders as he drew her across the last inches. For one brief eternity, he stared into her eyes, then dragged her into his arms, locking them around her hard enough to twinge her healing ribs. He buried his face in her shoulder, choking out a single word: "Shepard."

Curving her arms around his waist, Shepard curled her fingers into the cloth of his tunic, holding him as tightly as he gripped her. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, eyes closed as she fought to control the emotions storming through her. She felt the tension in his lean, muscular frame; felt the way his spine vibrated, his muscles quivered. She felt him easing back and tightened her own grip, locking her arms in place about his waist. "No. Don't. Not ever."

Her quiet words, half-command, half-plea, broke through the iron bands he'd wrapped about his heart. He drew in a ragged breath, then let it out on a sob. He could feel the tears starting, sliding, rolling down his cheeks. His body shuddered against hers, his arms locked like steel about her too-thin frame, refusing to let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he managed between quiet sobs. "Never again."

She felt wonder as she held his shuddering body against her own; never before had she seen her stoic, solid Kaidan lose control this way. Even after Earth, after Thessia, after the mess on the Citadel, she couldn't remember seeing him break down. No, it had been she who'd lost it, he who'd comforted. She found the role-reversal interesting... and heartening. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of that warm, musky scent that was uniquely Kaidan and held on tight.

Moments or millennia, the time that passed as they held each other in shared comfort was irrelevant. Eventually, the storm of grief and shock and joy ran its course, and Kaidan eased his grip on Shepard, lifting his head from her shoulder. She raised her own head, green eyes meeting brown, and drew one hand up to touch his cheek. He gazed at her across the intervening inches, then stole a march on them and her, leaning forward to press his lips gently to her own.

It was sweet, that kiss - _honey_ , her mind whispered with pleasure as her lips brushed over his, parting slightly as his head tilted to the side, deepening the angle. His broad, clever hands ran up and down her arms from shoulders to wrists. Too long since last this connection, and she felt her cheeks grow damp as tears streamed down them, salting their kiss. He drew away, nipping lightly at her lower lip before that final parting, and she sighed. "Mmmhmm," he murmured - _smugly_ , came the thought unbidden, chuckling across her mind.

"Kaidan." His name sighed from her lips, and he felt his lips quirk in his trademark half-grin. He reached up to catch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, watched her eyes flutter closed at his touch. "Kaidan," she murmured again. "Hackett..."

"No," he said mildly, and watched her eyes fly open. "Hackett can wait. The Alliance can wait. The whole bloody galaxy can wait. I have things I need to say, and damn it, I need to be with you." The shock in her eyes amused him; the pleasure made him grin boyishly. "I have a few things to get off my chest. Now, before... whatever." He rubbed his thumb along her chin. "First of all, I have to tell you, never again. Three times I've left you when you needed me most. Never again."

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to understand. "Three times? Kaidan, you've never let me down..." She trailed off as he shook her chin slightly, startled by the unexpected forcefulness from the normally mild-mannered major.

"When the Collectors destroyed the Normandy, I should have been at your side. Instead, I got into that escape pod." The major's expression was bleak, his skin just a little pale. When she opened her mouth to protest, he covered it with a finger. "I should not have left you. I shouldn't have left you on Horizon. I let my prejudice against Cerberus make me forget my duty to you, as my commander, as my friend, as the woman I love. I know if I had tried, I could have gotten leave to serve with you, but I couldn't look past Cerberus."

"Well, I won't argue that I could have used you, but Kaidan, you stood up for what you believed. How could you know I was right, I was real? Who knew what Cerberus had done to me when they brought me back?" Abruptly, she gave a short laugh. "Huh. Didn't know I'd gotten over that. Truth is, Kaidan, I don't know that I would have trusted you if things were reversed."

His thumb brushed lightly over her lower lip, melting brown eyes warm as he gazed down at her. "Regardless, I let you go on what amounted to a suicide mission without me. I should have been there. If Tali and Garrus, or, hell, Jack, could work with Cerberus, why couldn't I?" He shook his head, sighed that short, choppy sigh of his. "Then... There was London."

"No." It was Shepard's turn to silence him with a hand over his mouth, green eyes fierce as she stared up at him. "No. You were there, all the way to the beam. I made you leave, and I don't regret that one bit. If you had stayed... Kaidan, if you had stayed, you would have _died_. And I wouldn't be here right now, because without you, without knowing you were waiting for me, I wouldn't have had the strength to hold on. You were there when I needed you _most_ , in my heart."

He reached up and took her hand in his, curling his fingers with hers as he gazed down at her. "I love you," he said simply. "I love you and I can't lose you again. There aren't words for how these past months have been for me. All that kept me together was getting the Normandy back together and getting the crew home. Once that was done..." He trailed off, chocolate eyes distant. "I finally understood Javik."

Shepard tilted her head to the side, brow furrowing in confusion, then her eyes widened in horror. "No, Kaidan," she whispered, her fingers digging into his hand as she tugged him closer. He shook his head.

"No. No, I'm not a coward, and I'm not the last of an entire race. What Javik did, taking the ship when we reached Anslar and heading off... That was in memory of something far greater than lost friends, or even a lost love. But I did understand, however briefly, what it meant to lose everything you lived for." Kaidan reached up with his free hand, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "Part of me would have died with you. Not all of me... Too much to do, too much to live for.. But yes, part of me. The best part."

"Kaidan." Undone, she stepped backwards, arm outstretched to hunt for the chair. He caught her by the waist and swung around, sliding into the chair and pulling her to his lap. He tucked his arms about her and cradled her against him. She sighed, resting her forehead against his as she slid her arms around his neck.

"I didn't mean to get all sappy, Shepard. It's just... seeing you. I knew. Part of me knew. They wanted me to put your name on the memorial wall, but... I couldn't. It didn't feel right. But no one would tell me anything. So I just... held on to the plaque and hoped." His forehead against hers, he gazed into her eyes, holding her close. "When this is over, when we can finally relax, you and I have a lot to talk about."

"I look forward to it," Shepard replied earnestly. She might have said more, but a discreet buzz at the door had her sliding from his lap, tugging at her tunic as the door cycled open. Garrus peeked in around the corner, his expression relieved as both Alenko and Shepard smiled at him. "Alright, major," she said briskly, "shall we see what the Admiral has in store for us?"

"On your order, Commander," Alenko replied, suppressed laughter in his voice as he rose to his feet, pulling his uniform straight. Shepard grinned dizzily at him, then led the way out of the room, Kaidan and Garrus at her heels.

Exactly as it should be.

 


	9. Through the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard meet with Hackett for debriefs and to discuss their futures in the Alliance; Garrus tags along for support.

"Have a seat," Hackett greeted the trio as Shepard led them into his office. His eyes tracked over Alenko and Shepard as they took adjoining seats, his expression bland. "Now, major, Vakarian explained to me what happened to the Normandy after you and he were picked up on Earth, but I'd like to hear your report, and I'm sure the commander would too."

Kaidan glanced at Shepard out of the corner of his eye, noticed her impersonal, interested expression, and found he had to suppress a grin. The euphoria of finding Shepard alive had yet to completely fade, but he managed to keep it in check, and, turning his attention back to Hackett, cleared his throat. "After the Normandy dropped in to pick us up, we returned to Shield Fleet to assist in guarding the crucible. I was in med-bay for most of it,” he added, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I had been injured during the run for the beam.”

Shepard stirred, tilting her head slightly to glance at Garrus as the turian turned towards her. Their eyes met in that silent communication born of long association and familiarity between true friends. His mandibles twitched; the corners of her lips turned down, then as one the pair returned their attention to the major. He continued on without a pause, seemingly unaware of - or unconcerned by - the exchange between his partners. “I remember the panic as the Crucible signal went out, and I remember trying to get up, and someone,” and here he paused to give Garrus a long look, which the turian returned with affected innocence, “holding me down. Then we were through the relay, and systems were crashing all over the ship. The engines cut out, most of the power was gone, and Garrus helped me get into a crash harness minutes before we made landing on Sur’Kesh.”

He paused here, turning his head abruptly to stare at Shepard. She met his eyes, jaw clenched, and he shook his head at her. One hand moved slightly, as though to reach out towards the commander, but he aborted the movement with a slight flicker of his eyes towards Hackett. “Our… VI… was apparently badly damaged by the blast from the Crucible,” he continued slowly, his gaze still on Shepard, “and it took out most of the systems. Fortunately,” he added dryly, returning his attention to the admiral, “we have a damn good pilot. Joker was able to bring us in safely, and the damage to the ship was relatively negligible. It took us a while to restart the… VI… and get the systems up and going, but once we did, we were able to knock out the repairs, as you know, within a few weeks.”

“EDI is okay?” Shepard blurted out, reaching out to grip Kaidan’s arm. He turned, startled, and his own hand came up by reflex to cover hers. “But - wait. EDI’s still alive?”

“Shepard,” Garrus murmured warningly, but she ignored him, shaking Kaidan’s arm. Her green eyes were wide, and at her expression, the turian rose from his chair and moved to her side, kneeling awkwardly beside her seat. Reaching out one clawed hand, he placed it on her thigh, jogging it slightly. “Shepard?”

“I - but... “ Stuttering to a stop, the commander stared a moment longer at the major, then turned her attention to Garrus, clearly dumbfounded. The three sat in tableau for a long moment, attention centered on each other, until Admiral Hackett cleared his throat.

“Commander, let the major finish his report,” he murmured with a hint of rebuke. Startled, the trio broke apart. Shepard snatched her hand back from Kaidan’s arm, eyes flickering rapidly between him and Garrus, before she straightened in her chair, turning all attention to Hackett. The major hesitated only a moment longer before dropping his hand away and swiveling back around, his expression something between bewilderment and guilt. Garrus nearly overbalanced, managing to catch himself, and rose to his feet, making his way back to his seat with awkward dignity.

As the turian settled down again, Kaidan resumed his report, though his voice betrayed how unsettled Shepard’s reaction had made him. “Uh. Once we had the VI - EDI - up and running, she was able to help us chase down most of the problems in the system and she and Daniels were able to get everything up and running in about two weeks - just in time for Tali and Adams to finish the repairs to the Normandy’s exterior. Once everything was flightworthy, we got her up in the air and headed for the nearest salarian outpost. Once there, we fueled up and began plotting out the trip back to Earth. It was there, at Anslar, that Javik - our Prothean squadmate - requested a ship from the salarians. He… had something to see to.”

Kaidan lowered his head slightly, the motion echoed by Shepard and Garrus as they joined in mourning the loss of a valued team member. There was no doubt in any of them that the Prothean had done exactly what he told Shepard he would - he’d gone to join his old squadmates and the rest of his people. The major took a deep breath, then finished his report with, “Once we had plotted out our course with the help of some of the STG posted at Anslar, we stocked up on supplies and headed home. A trip which was, I might add, blessedly uneventful.”

“Except for the wrong turn just outside of the Basin,” Garrus added dryly, and Kaidan bit back a chuckle.

“Joker will never live that down.” Taking a breath, the major flicked his fingers, then turned his attention to the admiral. “That’s pretty much it, sir. I imagine that the Alliance engineers will find plenty to work on aboard the Normandy, but we brought her through in one piece. Once she’s ready to fly, we’ll be ready as well.”

“I’m glad to hear that, major, but for now, I’d rather you and your crew focused on relaxing,” Hackett replied gravely, trading his gaze slowly between the three. “I’m sure we’ll find plenty of work for you, but you - and your people - need to rest and recover. Commander,” and now he fixed his gaze on Shepard’s face, “it’s time for your debriefing. We’ve waited six months because you needed time to recover and because I didn’t want to take you through it more than once, but with your crew here, I think it’s time.”

Shepard swallowed, dropping her gaze to the hands locked between her knees. “Yes sir,” she said, her voice barely audible, and she gave a strange, hacking cough, rubbing at her chest. Kaidan leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together before him, and Garrus tilted his head, dark eyes concerned. “After the Normandy landed for evac and picked up my squad, I continued moving towards the beam.” She paused, taking a deep breath, and coughed again. Hackett studied her with concern, but he didn’t interrupt. “As I neared the beam platform, Harbinger… spoke to me.”

“Spoke to you, Commander?” Hackett asked quietly, leaning forward as she paused to cough again. “Shepard, do I need to get a doctor in here?”

She shook her head, rubbing between her breasts. “No sir. It’s… I don’t think it’s something they can help with. It happens whenever I think about… what happened. What’s that term they use? Psychosomatic? Just… memory. But yes, Harbinger spoke to me. He said… I think he said ‘You will serve me’. Then he used his laser on me.”

Kaidan jerked upwards, one hand shooting out and stopping just before grabbing her arm. “We saw what happened to those he shot, Shepard,” he said slowly. “They… burned. How... “ He trailed off, withdrawing his hand but still watching her carefully.

“I think he shot near me - I think he deliberately missed me. I was hurt, I was very badly hurt. But I was… I think I was able to stand. I’m not really sure.” Glassy green eyes stared off into the distance, and her fingers worked rhythmically against her chest, massaging her breastbone as she coughed again. “I’m sorry. This is going to sound really strange. I remember entering the beam. I remember making it to the Citadel. I remember Admiral Anderson being there. But I also remember… flashes, of being surrounded by rubble, of incredible pain and being buried while Harbinger stood above me, watching. I don’t know what is real.”

Hackett frowned, linking his fingers together beneath his chin as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You mean to tell me you have two different sets of memories of what happened at the beam, Commander?”

Shepard focused on him with an effort, thin beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. “Yes, sir. I remember walking among piles of bodies, of being in a part of the Citadel I had never seen before. Admiral Anderson contacted me, said he’d made it into the beam ahead of me. He was in a different part. We crossed a… chasm… of some sort. It was surrounded by those panels from the Shadow Broker’s ship. You remember, Garrus?” she asked, turning her attention towards the turian. “The lightning collectors.”

“I remember,” Garrus said softly. “The ones that were always moving, right? If they stopped, the ship would fall?” At her nod, he grunted softly. “I wonder what panels like the Shadow Broker’s would be doing in the Citadel.”

Shepard glanced at him sharply, her hand stilling against her breast as she stared at the turian for a long moment. Hackett cleared his throat and she dropped her gaze, picking up the thread of her report again. “We came into a room with a control panel. Anderson was there before me - he was already at the panel when I came in. He was moving… strangely, and then the Illusive Man came in.”

Kaidan made a noise deep in his throat, then shook his head when she glanced at him. After an uneasy breath, she plowed ahead. “The Illusive Man was… controlling him. He said he’d discovered how the Reapers were able to control others, and he could do it too. He would use his abilities to control the Reapers, to make them serve us instead of fight us. Anderson and I, we argued with him, and he… demonstrated his powers. He… he made me shoot Admiral Anderson. He made me shoot the man who made me what I am.”

When she stopped, pale-faced and shaking, Kaidan leaned over and reached out to grip her hand. She laced her fingers with his, knuckles white against her dark skin, but though he winced at the strength of her hold, he didn’t pull away. Hackett started to speak, then closed his mouth instead, brow furrowing. Garrus got up without a word and moved to her other side, kneeling beside her and placing a clawed hand upon her leg. “I… I don’t know how I did it. I talked him down, talked him into realizing he was indoctrinated. Like with Saren,” she added bleakly, and her partners both drew in sharp breaths. She nodded. “He killed himself.”

Shepard paused a moment to gather her thoughts, easing her grip on Kaidan’s hand, though she refused to release it. “I went to the control panel and used it to open the arms of the Citadel. Anderson had managed to get himself into a sitting position, but he was… mortally wounded. There was nothing I could do but sit with him. He spoke to me - told me he was proud of me,” she added bitterly, “then he died.” 

Lowering her head, she drew in a ragged breath, fighting against the sorrow that the memory brought rushing up her throat. “Then you contacted me, sir,” she murmured, lifting eyes filled with tears she refused to shed, “and told me nothing was happening. Like I told you over the com, I tried - I tried to get to the control panel, to figure out what had to be done, but I - I think I blacked out.”

It was Kaidan’s turn to squeeze her hand, and he struggled against crushing her fingers as he fought to control his emotions. Shepard remained silent, her head turned just enough for her to watch his face, as she waited for him to bring himself under control. Once he had mastered himself, she continued relentlessly. “I remember a light, and I remember being brought into a room where this… hologram was. A hologram of some kid.” Her brow furrowed. “I dreamed of this kid. I saw him on Earth, when we left the first time. He got into a shuttle, and it was shot down. I guess… I guess it made an impression on me.”

Shaking her head, she lowered the hand clutched to her chest, laying it atop the one Garrus had resting on her thigh. “He told me things - how he was the AI that had been created by Leviathan to solve the problem of synthetic/organic conflict, how his solution was the Reapers - they were created to harvest organic life before they could create synthetics that would destroy them, paving the way for the younger civilizations to grow until their time to be harvested. It sounded like a bunch of crap,” she added angrily. “I told him he didn’t have that right, but he wouldn’t listen. He told me the Crucible had changed his programming, that it had opened new choices, but that I had to decide which one he would implement. I could destroy all of the Reapers, at the cost of synthetic life everywhere. I could control the Reapers, like the Illusive Man wanted, and make them serve us. Or, I could make everything everywhere a synthetic/organic hybrid, like the Reapers themselves, and end the cycle by making it so there would never be a reason for synthetics to kill organics.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kaidan’s exclamation was incredulous, and Garrus wasn’t far behind with a shocked, “I’ve never heard anything so crazy.” Then, thoughtfully, he added, “Although, I admit, the Illusive Man and his ranting about controlling the Reapers came pretty close.”

Shepard nodded slowly. “I didn’t see that there was much of a choice. I chose to destroy the Reapers. I knew - the geth… EDI… but controlling the Reapers, even if it worked, I would have been enslaving an entire race - and leaving us open to them turning against us again, just like they did against their creators; Leviathan and his ilk. And this synthesis idea of his - how could I make that kind of decision for the entire galaxy? What makes us so wonderful is our diversity, I couldn’t just… take that away. So I shot the red circuits he said would destroy the Reapers. I guess it worked, but…” She trailed off, then turned to Kaidan, confused. “You said EDI is… still alive?”

Hackett, quiet until now, cleared his throat, drawing the attention of all three to him. “Not only is your ship’s A.I. still alive, Shepard,” he replied calmly, “but so are the Geth. Whatever you did, all it did was disrupt their connections to their hardware. Their programs still existed in their servers, and it didn’t disrupt them. The only Geth we lost, from what I understand from the Prime who explained things to us, were those who weren’t connected to their server or backed up, and that was few.”

“How - “ Shepard’s jaw dropped, but he held up a hand, silencing her.

“Not only that, when I called you about the Crucible not turning on, you never answered me. It simply turned on several minutes after you got the arms open - or, something opened the arms.” His faded blue eyes met Shepard’s green calmly, even as she gaped at him like a landed fish.

“Are you saying my memories are false?” she asked softly, pulling her hand from Garrus’s to touch her forehead. “Are you saying I’m… crazy?”

Hackett shook his head sharply. “No, commander, I’m saying I think those events happened, but not in the way you think. I think they happened in your head,” and he tapped his own temple, “and I think they were planted there by the Reapers. I think your memories of being in the rubble are your true memories, and the others - I don’t know. Maybe some kind of test. Maybe they were trying to indoctrinate you, and when you refused to play along, maybe that’s when they lost control of the situation. I have reports that just before the signal went out from the Citadel and the Reapers and geth collapsed, Harbinger began acting erratically, lights flashing and legs twitching.”

Shepard stared at the admiral, open-mouthed. “That… never even occurred to me,” she murmured, lowering her hand to Garrus’s again. The turian covered it with his own, so that her fingers were sandwiched between his claws. “That… would explain so much,” she said slowly. “Like how the Illusive Man could suddenly control us, even without the implants he’d been developing. And why the inside of the Citadel looked the way it did. And why none of the dead up there had a face - or rather, why they all had the same face.” Ashley’s face, her mind whispered. She ignored it, instead gazing bleakly at Hackett. “Am I a danger, sir?”

Slowly, Hackett shook his head. “I believe that the Reapers are gone, truly gone. Even if they’d managed to survive the signal from the Crucible, as soon as they - and their shields - fell, the fleets fell upon them and obliterated their bodies, across the galaxy, if I understand the reports that came in. And, if I understand correctly, the Reapers, unlike the geth, require their bodies to survive. They were more of a biosynthetic construct than straight synthetic?”

“We believe so,” Garrus answered, when Shepard seemed lost in thought. “At least, that’s what I understood from the research, the Collector base, and what Shepard told us of Leviathan on Despoina.”

The Admiral leaned back in his chair again, and Shepard took several calming, cleansing breaths. Garrus released her hand, but remained crouched by her chair. Kaidan’s fingers squeezed hers gently, then he extracted them, settling back into his own seat. All three turned their attention to the Fleet Commander. “In a few days, I plan to announce Commander Shepard’s survival, as well as the return of the Normandy and her crew. As I told you before, I want to make sure that the squad has a chance to rest, because once news of your survival, Commander, and your return, gentlemen, is announced, I anticipate that you will be swarmed, by well-wishers, by representatives from the races and the new Council, and, unfortunately, by the far too many reporters who survived the war.”

Shepard grimaced at the mention of reporters. “Can’t we just make the press illegal, sir?”

“I don’t think Ms. Allers would appreciate that,” Hackett responded mildly, “any more than she appreciates the fact that she’s currently under house arrest and denied access to any electronics - just in case she feels the urge to leak the Normandy’s return.” He didn’t miss Garrus’s pleased smirk, nor Alenko’s low chuckle. “That’s for a few days, though. I want to go over some plans we have for you - and for your squadmates, but I think we’ll leave that for tomorrow. I believe your mother has arranged for a private party in the mess hall for this wing with your squadmates. I’m sure you’d like to go and get cleaned up, so… you’re dismissed.”

Shepard rose unsteadily to her feet, Kaidan a beat behind her, his body shifting to provide support for her should she need it. Garrus managed to awkwardly climb up from his crouch, brushing at his knees. “Turians aren’t meant to kneel any more than we’re meant to duck,” he remarked absently to Shepard, and his mandibles spread in a grin as she gave a short laugh.

“Sir,” she said haltingly to Hackett, green eyes directed over his shoulder at the wall beyond, “I - I don’t know what is real and what is not, but I hope you know that I’m still Commander Shepard - I’m still a member of the Alliance and I’m still loyal to the galaxy. Don’t take that away from me.”

“Commander,” Hackett replied quietly as he stood, stepping up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I have never once doubted you, and I never will. Never fear - as long as you are willing to serve, you will have a place - an important place - in the Alliance.” As tears sprang into her eyes again, he squeezed her shoulder, then dropped his hand and backed away. “Now, go. Get ready for your party. Go give your squadmates one hell of a welcome home present.”

With a watery chuckle, Shepard straightened and saluted the admiral, then strode towards the door, Garrus and Kaidan once again in step at her back.


	10. Back Among Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah Shepard certainly knows how to throw a party - even when she doesn't bother to attend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some foul language. Sorry, can't have Jack and Zaeed without one or the other - or both - tripping the line.

“Hackett told me he’s given you the quarters next to Shepard’s, Kaidan,” Garrus remarked as they strode down the hall from the Admiral’s office. “I believe he’s already arranged to have your things brought in. Mine’s on the other side, and I believe the other squadmates are on the next hall over.” Pausing outside of Shepard’s door, the turian regarded his friends thoughtfully. “I won’t say anything to them. Just… don’t run too late, okay?”

“Garrus,” Shepard said softly, as the turian began to turn away. He swung back to face her, and she threw her arms around his waist, gripping him in a tight hug. “Thank you for taking care of him - of them.”

The turian’s expression softened, and as Shepard loosened her grip and looked up into his alien face, he lifted one tri-clawed hand to her cheek. “You told me once there’s no Shepard without Vakarian,” came his soft reply, dark eyes warm as they stared into hers. “You’re my best damn friend in this galaxy. I’ve already been to hell and back for you, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” His gaze flicked over, to where Kaidan had politely turned his back to give them some privacy, and his mandibles spread in a grin. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’re not waiting in that bar for me. We’ll talk later, I promise. But now,” he added, lifting his voice teasingly, “you need to go get cleaned up. Your squad is waiting.”

Dropping her arms away, Shepard stepped back, then lifted her hand in a salute to the turian. He offered one in return, then inclined his head to Kaidan as the major turned back around. “I’ll see you soon, Vakarian,” she murmured, watching him stride down the hallway towards his room. Tilting her head to the side, she eyed Kaidan out of the corner of her eye. “Why don’t you go grab your gear from your room, major? I actually have a shower in mine.”

His lips lifted in a slow smile as he met her green eyes with his, and he reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be over in a moment, Commander,” came his quiet reply.  His fingers trailed along her cheek, then he stepped away towards the door Garrus had indicated, leaving Shepard to enter her own room alone.

Once inside, Shepard let out a long, hard breath, gazing off into the dark room. Her treacherous vision fogged and distorted and she closed her eyes against the dizziness that it brought. By memory alone, she navigated through the room, skirting her workbench, sending her chair sailing back towards her desk. She paused by the wardrobe and pulled it open, studying the array of uniforms within. Selecting the one dress uniform she’d been given, ran her fingers down the piping on the jacket, studied the medals pinned to the breast.

Laying it carefully over the chair, she moved into the bathroom, where she reached up to unpin her bun, shaking her head as her hair fell down to brush against her back. Running her fingers through the thick black mass, she regarded herself in the mirror. So thin. She’d lost too much weight over the past three years, and these last six months of recuperation hadn’t helped to put too much back on her frame. She touched her fingertips to her prominent cheekbones, traced the curve of her almond-shaped eyes. Briefly, she considered comming her mother, asking for cosmetics - then dismissed the idea at once. She’d never felt the need to wear makeup before, unless a formal occasion demanded it, and she wasn’t going to start hiding behind it now. Her squad could take her as she was.

“I’d forgotten how long your hair is.” Startled, her head jerked up, her eyes meeting Kaidan’s where he leaned against her desk. “You’re always wearing that bun - I know, easier in uniform. It’d forgotten how much hair you have, how beautiful it is. How beautiful you are,” he added softly as he pushed away from the desk and approached her. She was silent as he reached out to cradle her face in his hands, his gentle fingertips sliding over her cheeks. “Shepard,” he murmured, as he lowered his head.

The kiss was gentle, sweet. His hands slid up, into her hair, then fell away, so that the only contact between them was where his lips met and melded to hers. She felt tears well up at the unexpected sweetness, ruthlessly quashed them, and instead stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. His own came around her, cradling her against him as his mouth explored hers, tasting, teasing. She sighed as he pulled away, eyes blinking open.

“Shepard,” he said hesitantly, sliding his hands up to frame her face once more, “after this party - after we’ve had a chance to see everyone, for everyone to see you, I - I want to come back here with you, tonight. There’s so much to talk about, so much to say… and so much time to make up.”

She gazed up at him, brow furrowing with confusion. “Where else would you be? You didn’t actually expect to stay in the room Hackett assigned you, did you?” At his breathless laugh, she smiled, reaching up to cover one of his hands with her own. “Kaidan, I’ve spent the past six months waiting for you to come back to me. I’m not going another night without you.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to her lips. “Then I suppose we’d better get cleaned up and dressed,” he replied, pulling away from her to grab the duffel he’d left on the ground, “because the sooner we go shock the squad, the sooner we can come back here and… talk.”

“Talk,” Shepard echoed, with a wicked smirk.“Of course.”

“Well,” Kaidan allowed, waving a hand, “among other things.” She shook her head at his smug grin and reached up to start unbuttoning her tunic.

“Don’t suppose you’d care to scrub my back, would you, major?”

Kaidan cleared his throat, considering her as she flipped open the last button and let her uniform tunic fall to the floor. “I, uh… could be persuaded to help. Wouldn’t want you to strain anything…” He trailed off as she tugged off her belt, shed her trousers. “Where was I?”

Laughing, Shepard reached out, grabbing his tunic and jerking him into the bathroom. “C’mere, major.”

“Yes, ma’am!” 

* * *

Garrus strode into the mess hall, paused to take in the scene. The crew of the Normandy - Shepard’s squad, was scattered throughout the room, talking, laughing, and grazing from the tables groaning under copious amounts of food. Most of it was common fare, but there was plenty to go around, and the various peoples weren’t shy of making inroads into the bounty.

“Hey, Vakarian,” Vega sailed over with a glass filled with amber liquid. “This is some great cerveza. It’s a shame you can’t drink it. Think they got some turian beer over there, though,” and he jerked a thumb towards one of the beverage-laden tables. “Quite the little welcome home party, ain’t it? Didn’t think the admiral’d go through so much trouble.”

Garrus grinned at the marine’s unflagging exuberance. “Hey, we’re the conquering heroes. It’s all hail us and cheers, right?” A dazzling flash of color caught his eyes, and he glanced over to see Jack talking with Liara on the other side of the room. “Looks like they pulled in more than just us, huh?”

Vega glanced towards Jack, then touched the turian’s arm and jerked his chin at where Wrex and Grunt were talking with Traynor. Well, the krogan were talking - the com specialist looked torn between fascination and horror. “Garrus!” He turned quickly, catching Tali as she came running up to him. Linking an arm around her waist, he grinned down at her. “You made it. But where is Kaidan?”

James grunted, glancing around the room. “Yeah, where is the major? Don’t tell me you let him skip out on this party, Vakarian. He shouldn’t be left to brood.” The big human’s eyes were distant as he stared off towards the krogan. “Y’gotta get your feet under you when the damn galaxy knocks you down.”

“He’ll be on his way,” Garrus soothed, bending down slightly to touch the side of his face to Tali’s helmet. “He promised he’d be here, he just wanted to get a shower and relax a little first.” At Vega’s unbelieving expression, the turian sighed. “He promised,” he repeated. “Kaidan doesn’t break his promises, certainly not to me.”

“I guess,” Vega replied dubiously, lifting his glass to his lips and glancing towards the door as it cycled open. Then he choked, spitting a mouthful of beer all over himself. The glass slipped from his fingers to shatter on the ground. The sound drew attention from all over the room, and quiet abruptly descended as the rest of the squad saw what had shocked the marine. “Madre de dios,” the lieutenant whispered.

“I told you he’d be here,” Garrus replied smugly into the stunned silence.

* * *

As they walked into the silent mess hall, Shepard’s steps slowed. At her side, Kaidan glanced over at her, then came to a halt, reaching out to touch her arm. She looked up into his compassionate brown eyes and swallowed, then nodded. Taking a deep breath, she stepped off again, the major a beat behind at her heels.

It was, predictably, Jack who broke the silence first. “Son of a bitch, Shepard!” The biotic pushed past Liara and stalked up to the commander, stopping inches away to stare up at the taller woman’s face.

“Hey, Jack. You’re not going to punch me again, are you?” The commander offered a tentative smile as she reached out to offer a hand to her erstwhile friend. Jack lowered her gaze to that hand, then dismissed it, instead stepping up to give a shocked Shepard a brief, hard hug.

“Fuck no. Got that out of my system back at the academy. You look like shit, Shepard, but fuuuuck. You’re alive!” Stepping back, hands on Shepard’s shoulders, Jack stared into those so-familiar green eyes, taking note of the glassiness. “You okay?”

Shepard took a deep breath, reached up to pat one of the hands on her shoulders. “I’m fine, Jack. Alive, kicking, and ready to get back into action.” The biotic nodded once, squeezing down on the commander’s shoulders, then stepped back into the crowd growing around them.

“Commander,” Vega said in a strangled voice, lifting one hand in salute. Shepard saluted back, then reached out to grab his hand, gripping it firm in hers and tugging him in for a hug. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Dios, but it’s damn good to be wrong.” He squeezed hard, then released her, stepping back for Liara to take his place.

“Shepard,” breathed the asari, flinging her arms around the commander’s shoulders and clinging hard. The human smiled and wrapped her arms around Liara’s waist, turning her face into the curve of her friend’s neck. “I prayed and prayed, but I never imagined. Thank the Goddess.” Pulling back, she lifted one hand to rub tears from her cheek. As the commander began to speak, the archaeologist mutely shook her head and stepped away for Wrex.

Krogan and human stared at each other across the inches for a long moment, she with a half-smile on her lips, him looking oddly awkward. “Shepard,” he rumbled at last, reaching out to grab her hand in a bruising grip.

“Wrex.” She brought her other hand up to grasp his forearm and they gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, neither needing to say more. Then he nodded once and slipped into the crowd, letting Grunt shoulder his way up next.

“Battlemaster. What a tale you must have!” The younger krogan spread his arms, then reached out to grip her shoulders. “If you did not look like such hell, I would show you how krogan greet each other after a long battle. Perhaps some other time.” Squeezing her arms in his powerful grip, he lifted her an inch from the ground, then set her down again gently. “Heh, heh, heh.” With that pleased rumble of laughter, he backed away.

Cortez nudged past Grunt, reaching up to salute Shepard before extending his hand to grasp hers. “Glad to see you in one piece, Commander. I had a feeling you’d make it.” His grip was strong and sure, and he reached out with his other hand to touch her shoulder. “You’re a hell of a woman, Shepard. Can’t wait to fly you again.” With a nod, he released her and stepped away.

Traynor stepped forward next, offering Shepard a crisp salute. “Commander, it’s good to see you again.” She beamed as the marine lifted her own hand to her forehead, then dropped her arm and held it out for the other woman to shake. “I swear, all the stories about you must be true.” Still grinning, she released the commander, then moved away.

Tali glanced up at Garrus, then stepped forward. Reaching out with her tri-fingered hands, she gripped Shepard’s hard. “Shepard,” she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. “It is so good to see you again.” Swallowing, the commander squeezed her hands, then moved in, enveloping the slight quarian in a hug. She felt Tali’s arms go around her, holding close. She closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against the cool glass and metal of Tali’s helmet, and held on for a long moment before reluctantly releasing her. “Kee’lah selai,” Tali whispered, her fingers trailing down the commander’s arms and lingering on her palms before she moved to stand by the turian, who once again slipped his arm around her.

“Shepard, you mangy bitch. You always show up when it’s least expected. Shoulda known you’d weasel out of dying again.” The commander turned slightly, lips curving in a broad grin as she stepped forward to meet Zaeed halfway, wrapping her arms around the mercenary in a back-slapping hug. “Damn me, but it’s good to see your face again. Actually got a bit sad, thinking you’d bit the big one. Shed a tear or two. Almost as bad as when I lost Jesse.” He stepped back, gripping her arms with his broad hands. “Damn me,” he repeated, then released her, nodding to her.

As Kaidan stepped up to Shepard’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder, she turned back to her squad, her brow furrowing. “Where is…” She trailed off as she watched the small crowd part, watched a familiar figure limp up - alone. “Joker,” she breathed, moving to meet him. His green eyes were intent on her face, and as she reached him, he stopped and straightened, lifting his hand in a salute. Where other greetings had threatened her emotional control, his stripped it, and she felt tears start in her eyes, spill down her cheeks. “Oh, Joker. I’m… so sorry.”

“The hell, Commander?” the pilot asked, startled, as she reached out a hand to grab his gently. “That’s my line.” His fingers curled around hers with surprising strength, and he reached out with his other hand to grip her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have left you,” he said fiercely. “When the Crucible went off, I should have stayed!”

“No, Joker, no. You did exactly the right thing. You got the Normandy - the crew - to safety. That was what was important.” She lifted her free hand to touch his cheek, amused and touched to see the color flood beneath her fingers. “I’m sorry about EDI. I’m so sorry, I had to make a choice…”

Joker stared at her, perplexed. “EDI’s fine. She just doesn’t have her hot body anymore. Stupid Crucible. She’s still in the Normandy, and we’ll get her back into it. Hackett already promised me he’s got engineers working on it.” Seeing her shock, he gave a short laugh. “Seriously, Commander? You think anything gets by that guy? Shit.” He squeezed her fingers and her arm, then released her. “Hey,” he called, turning to look at the gathered squad. “Is this a party? Where the hell’s the music? Someone get this woman a beer.” He tossed a saucy wink over his shoulder at Shepard, then began to chivvy the crowd away.

“I love that man,” Shepard whispered as Kaidan stepped up to her side again, slid his arm around her waist. Leaning into his strong shoulder, she watched the crowd dissipate slowly, moving back towards the tables in small groups. Garrus and Tali stepped up to them, the turian mirroring the major’s pose with his mate. “God, Kaidan. I didn’t know what it would mean to… to see everyone again.”

“You’ve touched so many lives, Shepard,” Kaidan murmured, turning his head to press his lips into her hair. “Changed so many lives. Jack? Thanks to you, she’s found a place she can be proud of. Tali,” and he nodded to the quarian, “has a homeworld to return to. Garrus found a place he could be happy. Traynor, she found her spine. Joker learned to care about someone other than himself and found the perfect girl. Come to think of it,” he added, nuzzling her ear, “so did I.”

Garrus reached out, tucking his free arm about Shepard’s waist, hip nudging hers. “You did good, Shepard,” he stated, unknowingly echoing Anderson’s words and bringing a lump to her throat. “Now, lighten up. This is a party. There’s partying to be had. Drinking to drink. Dancing to dance.” Across the floor, there was a crash and a loud “whoop!” from Jack. “Krogan to be krogan,” the turian added, watching Wrex grab Grunt and haul him up off the floor. “Kaidan, take your lady and get her a drink. Dance with her.”

“Aye aye, General,” Kaidan grinned, tilting his head to wink at the turian. Garrus nodded back, brushing his hand along Shepard’s back as he led Tali away, leaving the two alone.

Kaidan glanced down at Shepard as she leaned her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist, hand resting lightly on his hip. “You alright?” he asked softly. She tilted her head back to gaze up at him and gave a soft, contented smile. “Want a beer? I think I saw a nice Canadian lager over there.”

“That sounds great,” she murmured. “Let’s go join the party.”

Arm in arm, they stepped into the crowd, to be surrounded by crewmates - surrounded by friends.


	11. Into the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard finally get some honest to goodness alone time. Eventually, they even put it to good use.

“Man, what a night,” Kaidan groaned as Shepard opened the door to her room. She laughed as she led him in, stretching her arms above her head as they moved into the dim light. “Reminds me of the party you threw on the Citadel, in Anderson’s apartment. It was good to see everyone so happy again, though. It’s been too long.”

“It has,” Shepard agreed as she stripped off her uniform jacket, laying it over the back of the couch. She sank into the cushions and peered up at Kaidan as he began unbuttoning his own jacket. “I didn’t realize what it would mean to me to see the squad again. When Hackett told me the Normandy was coming home, I was excited, but mostly, I was just thinking about you.”

Laying his jacket atop hers, Kaidan settled down at her side, sliding his arm around her shoulder. She tucked her legs up beneath her and cuddled into his side, throwing one arm over his chest as she nuzzled into his throat. He chuckled, twisting his wrist to start pulling the pins out of her bun. “I thought a lot about you, too,” he admitted. “Think I kind of drove Vega a little crazy. He gets a little edgy if you brood near him.”

“I noticed,” Shepard replied dryly, shaking her head as he removed the last of her pins and closing her eyes as she felt his fingers tangling into her hair. “He used to rag me when I was detained back before the war. I’d brood because they wouldn’t let me send out any messages, so I couldn’t check in with the crew or talk to Thane.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she bit her lip, but Kaidan merely turned his head and pressed his lips against her hair.

“Yeah. I tried to send you a couple of messages,” he admitted, grinning as he felt her jerk in his arms. “Even tried to see you once or twice, but they had you under lock and key, and even I wasn’t allowed in. They didn’t want to risk anything until they dealt with the Hegemony.”

She tilted her head to try and see his face, staring at his profile. “Really? You really tried to see me?” When he nodded, she wiggled closer and lifted her head to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I would have loved to see you.”

“Yeah, well, at least it’s all over now. I doubt they’d dare try to arrest you again, no matter what you did. The whole galaxy’d be up in arms if they tried.” He twisted a lock of her hair between his fingers, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. She gave a soft sigh of pleasure and curled against his side, content.

After a while, during which her brain had slid off into that lovely space where nothing really matters, Shepard felt Kaidan stir against her. She tightened her arm briefly about his waist as he started to stand, then released him, sitting up. She watched lazily as he moved to grab one of the bottles of beer they'd smuggled back from the party. At his inquiring glance, she nodded, and he returned, handing her one. Instead of settling back down beside her, however, he dragged a chair over and sank down on it instead. "What's up," she murmured throatily, reaching out to accept the beer he offered.

"I'm thinking of resigning my commission."

Blink. That's the only reaction Shepard was capable of for several heartbeats. "What?" She finally asked intelligently. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. It sounded like you said you were thinking of... Resigning?"

Kaidan leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, bottle neck dangling between his fingers. "I don't know. I'm thirty-five years old and I've seen more than most soldiers twice my age. I've watched the galaxy go belly up three times now, I've been part of saving it twice. Part of me just wants to sit back and bask in the glory." His chocolate eyes went distant. "And, frankly, I don't know if I want to risk being assigned away from you."

"Kaidan..." Shepard let her feet slide to the floor and put her beer to the side, leaning forward to regard her lover earnestly. “If you choose to resign because you’re ready to be done, because you have another direction you want to take with your life, then do it. But don’t leave because of me, us. You told me once you were a career man. Don’t give up your career if that’s not what you want to do.”

Kaidan swirled the bottle in his hand, watching the liquid within slosh around. “I won’t lie. Our relationship - what I hope our relationship will be - that has an effect on my decision. I don’t regret that, Shepard.” Abruptly he laughed, though the sound held little bemusement. “Listen to me. I can’t even call you by your name. I don’t want us - what we are - to be defined by the military, Liandyn.”

She felt a shiver slide down her spine as he called her by name - something he so rarely did outside of the heat of the moment. “Yes, but - it’s not unworkable. My parents managed for thirty years only seeing each other only a few times a year. It’s hard - I know it’s hard, but... “ She trailed off, shaking her head as she failed to find the words to explain her feelings on the matter.

That heartbreaking half-smile crossed Kaidan’s face, and he put his beer aside, then reached across the gap between them to take her hands. “Liandyn,” he murmured, and his smile broadened as he felt her fingers twitch in his, “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. A lot depends on what Hackett has planned for us. But… I was talking to Jack earlier tonight, and she was telling me that Kahlee Sanders had restarted Grissom Academy here in London. There’s not a lot of biotics out there capable of teaching - Jack. Me. You, I know, but…” He laughed softly at the expression on her face. “I think I’d be happy teaching biotic kids, giving them a chance to learn without going through what I had to..”

“Kaidan,” Shepard murmured, her expression concerned. Her fingers curled about his and she gazed into his eyes, trying to focus through the blurring distortion. “I - “

“Hey,” Kaidan said easily, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just something I’m considering - it’s all up in the air depending on what the Alliance wants to do with us, anyway. I was just giving you a heads up on where my thoughts were tending.”

Shepard was quiet for a long moment, staring down at their joined hands. She could sense Kaidan’s concern, and squeezed her fingers around his. “I think you should do what makes you happy, Kaidan,” she finally murmured, lifting her gaze to meet his own. “I - I will be honest. I’m not sure I’m up for saving the galaxy again, myself. I never thought I’d say this - certainly not at thirty-two, but a nice, quiet duty almost sounds appealing.”

“Woah,” Kaidan said, his voice heavy with laughter, “maybe I need to get a shrink in here, take a look inside that pretty head of yours. Commander Shepard, ready to lay down her rifle?”

“Well,” Shepard vacillated, “I don’t know if I’d go _that_ far. Maybe tuck it away somewhere I can get to it easily, though. I don’t think I’d be happy with a desk somewhere, but... “ She trailed off, shrugging, her eyes fixed on some distant point beyond Kaidan’s head. “Maybe something with a little less daily death.”

Kaidan pulled on her hands, tugging her in to lay a kiss on her forehead. “I think you’ve earned it,” he murmured seriously, his chocolate eyes fixed on her face. “I won’t lie, I would be happy if you weren’t courting the reaper - sorry, bad pun - everyday. But when I fell in love with you, I knew who you were. I knew what you were. Shepard, if you have to save the galaxy again, I won’t hold you back. I only hope to be in a position where I can be at your side as well as have your back. But, hey! Enough of this,” he added, as he watched her expression grow pensive. “Damned if I’m going to waste the high from an excellent party. Do you know, we disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer tonight?”

Distracted by the sudden shift of conversation, she stared at Kaidan in confusion. “What? I don’t remember anyone giving us orders.”

Kaidan grinned at her expression and rose to his feet, tugging on her hands to get her to follow him. “I distinctly recall General Vakarian - and last I checked, general outranks commander and major - ordering me to get you a drink and dance with you. I got you a drink, but I seem to recall you being too busy fraternizing to dance with me.”

“Kaidan,” Shepard sighed with a hint of exasperation. “You know I can’t dance. In fact, it seems to be a favorite topic of conversation among the crew.”

“All it takes is the right partner. It’s simple,” he cajoled, keeping hold of one hand while he drew the other to his shoulder, then took her waist. “Just put your feet where mine are.” Memory tugged, his chocolate eyes going distant for a moment, but the elusive wisp faded and he focused his gaze on her face, grinning, charmed, as he saw the look of intense concentration on her face.

He started simple, drawing her in a slow circle. It was fascinating to watch as she grew more comfortable with the easy routine of the dance, how the intensity of her expression melted away into pleasure. He sighed softly, gathering her closer, and pulling the hand tucked in his up until it rested on his shoulder, then skimming his fingers along her arm and ribs to rest lightly on her hips. They swayed, body to body, chocolate eyes gazing into emerald.

_Honey_. Her mind whispered the word, pleasure gliding through her veins, and her gaze fixed on Kaidan’s mouth, tracing over lips curved in that so-familiar half-smile of his. “Do you smell flowers?” she murmured, brow furrowing as now and then intertwined in her mind. Then she sighed, relaxing into him. She shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder, angling so that she could gaze up at him through half-closed lids.

“The only thing here is you,” Kaidan murmured. Wisps of deja-vu fluttered like moths in his head, never quite coalescing into memory. He closed the gap, that bare inch, and covered her mouth with his, drawing her into a slow, sweet kiss.

_Honey_! The thought battered insistently at her mind as she dropped her hands, skimming her fingers down his broad chest to wrap her arms around his waist. A half-remembered night breeze blew through the cabin, and she felt her power rise within her breast, felt the heat of his match her, wrapping them in a pale blue glow.

She opened her eyes as he drew away, gazing with no little awe up at his strong, handsome features etched in sapphire. His eyes glowed cobalt, intent on her face as he drew his hands up her ribs, skimming along the edges of her breasts to cup her cheeks. He stared into her face for a long, breathless moment as the power wisped away. Blue bled to brown, still beautiful, and the intensity of his gaze tugged on a memory buried deep in her mind. But the key that opened the lock was not those familiar, beloved eyes, but a single word, spoken on a whisper of breath: “Lyn?”

“It is you,” she murmured, wondering. “I - how did I forget this?”

Kaidan shook his head slowly, half in answer, half to clear it of the fog. “I’m not sure we ever really did,” he murmured, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers as she lifted her head from his shoulder. “For me, at least, I think remembering just got all mixed up in all of the hype of you after Elysium. When I saw you the first time… on the Normandy… I thought I only recognized you from the vids. But I think it was more than that.”

Shepard’s hands slid down from his shoulders, resting lightly against his chest. The movement brought another burst of memory, and she stared into his whiskey-hued eyes, taking a deep breath. “I thought I knew you when I first came on board the Normandy,” she confessed. “I just couldn’t place you, and later… I thought it was just that first spark of attraction.”

“Well,” Kaidan replied, lips curving in a slightly smug grin, “I’m sure that was part of it.” Before she could retort, he tightened his arms, crushing her against him, and brought his mouth down on hers again. She clung to him, fingers curling into his shirt, gripping the fabric. This was not a sweet kiss - it was hard, rough, and passionate, and left her head spinning as it ended. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” he murmured hoarsely. “Let me hold you tonight.”

“Kaidan,” Shepard breathed as he lifted her from her feet, swinging her up into his arms, and carried her towards where the bed waited. “I don’t ever want you to stop holding me.”

Just before he stole her thoughts with another kiss, his words whispered over her lips: “I will never let you go again.”


	12. Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, Kaidan and Shepard are meeting with Hackett - this time to hear his thoughts on their next postings. Oh, and so he can conveniently rat out Shepard.

“Come in, have a seat.” As Shepard and Kaidan walked into Hackett’s office, he rose from his chair, resting one hand on the desk as he gestured to the two chairs angled before him. Shepard slid into hers, tilting her head to one side to regard the admiral as Kaidan took the other, leaning back and folding his hands in his lap. “I trust you slept well? You both look rested.” With a bland smile, he took his seat and pretended not to notice the way the major was studiously inspecting the light fixtures.

“I had good reason to sleep well,” Shepard replied, just as dryly. “My crew is home.” She didn’t so much as glance at Kaidan, who had finally decided that the lights weren’t about to drop on their heads and was instead gazing steadily at Hackett.

At the commander’s words, he nodded agreement and offered a polite smile to the commander of the Fleet. “I’m home,” he said simply, and Shepard hoped she was the only one who read the double meaning in the biotic’s words. From the flash of humor in Hackett’s eyes, she doubted she was. _Seriously, Commander? You think anything gets by that guy?_ She had little doubt Joker was right. No reason, however, to confirm his suspicions. _Yet_.

“I’m glad to hear that. As you know, I called you here because we need to discuss the Alliance’s plans for you two. First of all, you should both know that I called a press conference for tomorrow morning at oh-nine-hundred. I wanted to give the crew more downtime - to give you all more time to reconnect - but rumors are already spreading about the Normandy being in dock. I’d rather address them sooner than later.”

“Understood, Admiral,” Shepard replied with a hint of resignation. At his amused look, she shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, I know. I’ve had six months. But… it was a very nice six months without the press. Not at all like the last six months I had without press,” she added wryly, and Hackett gave her an approving nod.

Kaidan tapped a finger on his knee. “So what does the Alliance plan to do with us, Admiral?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the original topic. “I admit, while I’d like a little more time to recuperate, I can’t object to getting back to work. I guess I’m not the kind of guy who can just sit around when something needs doing.”

Admiral Hackett turned his attention on the major, amusement and approval in his faded blue eyes. “I’m glad to hear that, major, because I have a lot of work for you.” Ignoring the tension that stiffened Shepard’s body as she straightened in her chair, he continued, “I’d like you to continue as head of Biotics Division. While I’m aware that it’s a lot of desk work,” he added, fixing Alenko with a stern stare, “I imagine you’ll have plenty of opportunities to head into the field if you desire. You did an amazing job with your squads before, and the war has seen a lot more biotics in the Alliance ranks. We’ve even had some interest from the Asari about having some of their commando teams trained in Alliance tactics.”

“Biotics Division?” Kaidan echoed, as if not quite understanding the Admiral’s words. “I - that sounds great, Admiral, but… I admit, I was hoping to remain on the Normandy, with… with her crew.”

“It’s a good team,” Hackett agreed, “but I need you with BioDiv. You are a gifted teacher and you have an innate command of strategy where biotics are concerned. Not surprising, given your own training,” he added, startling Alenko. “Fortunately, I don’t think we’ll need to resort to such measures these days. I plan to coordinate heavily with Commander Sanders and Grissom Academy to ensure that the biotics coming to you have been trained properly by them. Think about it,” he advised the major when Kaidan opened his mouth. “Commander.”

As Hackett’s attention shifted to her, Shepard jumped slightly, distracted from her contemplation of Kaidan’s new post. “Yes, sir,” she barked out, swallowing slightly.

“I promised to return the Normandy to you, and I intend to. I honestly don’t think there’s anyone else who will use her as well as you can.” He watched her tension lessen, though she gave no other sign of her relief. “I am assigning the Normandy permanently to Alliance command.” Catching her confusion, he smiled slightly. “And, of course, her commander and crew. Have you considered, Shepard, about the ramifications of your work during the Reaper War?”

Brow furrowing with confusion, eyes glinting with suspicion, Shepard shook her head slowly. “Other than the fact that it saved the galaxy, no sir. I wasn’t really concerned with results besides getting the fleets and supplies we needed to win the war.”

Hackett nodded, unsurprised by her answer. “You unified the galaxy, Commander,” he stated softly. “The races retain their own governments, but already I’ve been approached by Primarch Victus from the turian hierarchy about working with the allied fleet commanders to create an initiative for inter-fleet cooperation and training that, I suspect, he hopes will lead to a combined Allied fleet.”

“They want to combine the galactic fleets?” Shepard stared at Hackett, jaw dropping slightly.

Hackett nodded slowly. “In a way. Each race intends, of course, to maintain direct control over their own fleets - I sure as hell would expect them to, but they propose the joint chiefs act as… overseers and program directors of the inter-fleet initiative. In times of galactic distress, we would assume command of a combined fleet. During peace, we would be in command of a program intended to get the fleets used to working together. Many human strategies differ from the turians, which differ from the asari, and so forth. While it is fully intended for each of the races to continue training their fleets as they are comfortable, we see the need for an inter-fleet training initiative that ensures that, should something like the Reaper War happen again, the fleets can fit seamlessly together from the get-go.”

“That sounds amazing sir,” Shepard breathed, her green eyes wide with wonder. “Something like this would mean we’d never have to beg for help again. No one would, because everyone would be ready to serve, and they’d know exactly who was in command.” Hackett nodded.

“Exactly, Commander. And that’s where you come in.”

“Sir?” Shepard tilted her head to the side.

“Commander, none of this would be possible without you. You have built up alliances and goodwill with the other races in the galaxy that no other person will ever be able to match. The turians and krogan respect you, the asari and salarians honor you, and the hanar, the volus, and the elcor consider you to be a national hero. I understand the drell simply consider you to be one of their own.” One eyebrow lifted at her as she bit her lip, but she just shook her head and he continued. “Even the batarians have a wary respect for you - and you have been cleared of charges of mass murder for the destruction of the Alpha Relay and Aratoht.”

“Admiral,” Shepard interrupted as he drew a breath, her voice just a little desperate, “I did what I had to do because it needed to be done. It had to be me.” Someone else might have gotten it wrong. Mordin’s voice echoed through her heart and she took a deep breath to ward off the surge of emotion. “But I didn’t do it for respect or admiration - I just did it because… it had to be done,” she finished, a bit lamely. “We couldn’t stand apart and win the war.”

Hackett nodded gravely. “You’re correct, commander. We couldn’t stand apart then and win the war, and we can’t stand apart now and preserve the peace. The galaxy as a whole must rebuild, and it must be done together. It will take people from all of the races working with each other to stabilize things. You’ll see tomorrow. We have asari, salarians, _batarians_ living on Earth. Not staying here while waiting for the relays to be repaired - living here, Shepard. They have homes, they’ve begun schools, we’ve even seen some petitions for citizenship. No longer are the homeworlds going to be bastions of racial homogeneousness.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” Shepard remarked uncomfortably, shifting in her seat. “Honestly, Admiral, I’d just like a nice quiet patrol, maybe… maybe a place at the Villa as an N7 instructor. Hey, I could even work with BioDiv and teach biotics.” She lifted one hand, letting power wisp blue into the air.

“No, commander,” Hackett said firmly, and she shut her mouth on her protests, recognizing the note of finality in the admiral’s voice. “I need a liaison to the other races who can go to the homeworlds, the colonies, and coordinate with their fleets and their military, who can help shape the interfleet cooperatives I have in mind, who will be my voice and my hand. Don’t get me wrong,” he added, shaking his head, “you’ll spend plenty of time here on Earth working with me on the initiatives, but with the Normandy as a mobile command center, you’ll be in a position to coordinate with the other fleets.”

“You want me to work with you?” Shepard said slowly, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

“Did you think I planned to make you a diplomat, Shepard?” Hackett asked, his voice amused. “Commander, you are a skilled soldier, and you are a natural leader, but I think making you an ambassador would probably send the galaxy into apoplexy. Your strength is as a tactician, not as a talker. Yes, the races respect you, but we’re not gearing up for war here, but for peace - a lasting peace. We won’t be in a position where the races are scared enough to overlook your, ah… less than diplomatic handling. I’d rather keep you to the military side of things, where the people you’re working with will be used to a more - direct - way of thinking.”

Shepard sat back in her chair, staring at Hackett as she considered the proposal and the implications of the admiral’s words. Next to her, she felt Kaidan slowly relaxing, realized that half of the tension she’d been feeling had been the major’s. She didn’t have to look at him to realize his opinion on whether or not to accept the admiral’s charge. And truly, she didn’t have to think too hard on it, herself. “Sir, I would be honored,” she stated simply.

“Of course,” Hackett added, amusement in his eyes at the renewed suspicion in hers, “this does mean you’ll need a promotion. I can’t expect a mere commander to give orders to generals and admirals - which means you, Shepard, will need the rank to go with your responsibilities.”

The implication was clear, and Shepard felt her eyes go wide with incredulity. “You can’t be serious,” she blurted.

“Trust me, Shepard, I am completely serious,” Hackett responded blandly. “If you are to work as my right hand, you will need an Admiral’s bars.”

“I - I... “

“What’s done is done, Admiral.” Shepard felt the undertone of glee in Hackett’s voice was entirely unwarranted, and her stony stare said as much. He met her gaze with equanimity, however. “Of course, any promotion is pending approval by the rest of Alliance command, but I don’t personally foresee any complications. Shepard,” he continued, his voice growing soft, “I know that you have never sought recognition. I remember when you tried to refuse the Star after Elysium.”

Shepard shrugged. “I was doing my duty. I don’t need medals or rank to tell me I did the right thing.”

“But medals and ranks aren’t for you. They’re to show everyone else that you are capable of what is being asked of you,” Hackett responded, folding his hands on the desk and leaning forward. “Like it or not, Shepard, you saved the galaxy. It’s going to want to thank you, and that thanks is probably going to be tangible. If you didn’t want the reward...” He paused briefly, glancing at Kaidan, then closed his mouth, cutting off whatever else he was about to say.

Kaidan reached over from his chair, touching Shepard on the arm. She glanced at him, startled, and he shook his head. “It’s not worth arguing over, commander,” he said softly, then gave a soft laugh. “I mean, Admiral.” Ignoring her scowl, he squeezed her arm, then drew his hand back. “You’ve earned it. Just… say thank you. Gracefully.”

She grumbled, she glared, and in the end, she sighed. “Thank you, Admiral.” Well. Grudgingly and gracefully sound the same. Sort of. They start with the same letter.

“You have the rest of the day to finish getting your affairs in order before the press conference tomorrow,” Hackett stated, leaning back in his chair and regarding his two marines proudly. “Take some time for yourselves, spend some time with your crew. Commander, Doctor Chakwas returned with the Normandy. She’s been working in the other wing, but I plan to see if she has time to come over and do a consult with you. See if she can do anything about - What on Earth is wrong with you, Shepard?”

Kaidan turned to stare at the commander, who had paled slightly and was shaking her head at Hackett. The admiral narrowed his eyes, studying the major’s suspicious expression. “I see,” he said quietly, sighing inwardly. “I’m going to talk with her and see if she’ll come see to you.” He stood, and the two marines slowly followed suit, Shepard looking a bit sick, Kaidan looking thunderous. “Dismissed.”

As they saluted and turned to leave, he put his hand to his forehead, rubbing. _Why’d she have to be so like me?_ He watched his daughter and her lover stride from his office, noticed the tension and stiffness in their gait as the door cycled shut. Settling back down at his desk, he rubbed at his knuckles, trying to ease the ache that seemed to have settled permanently into his joints these days.

_If I can depend on her to fix the galaxy’s problems, surely she can fix her own._ Even in his own mind, the thought had a dubious tone. He sighed and reached out to the comm to contact Doctor Chakwas.

_Not my problem. Yet._

 


	13. Heart Under Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard have a... talk... about her tendency to hide rather important information from him. Chakwas has some not so good news.

The silence was chill as Kaidan followed Shepard into her room. She turned as the door cycled shut behind him, ready for his anger, but he merely gave her an eloquent glare and stalked to the desk, staring blindly at the datapads littering its surface. Perplexed by his reaction - or lack thereof, she shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, studying the line of his back. Even through the fog, she could see the tension singing down his spine.

She turned away from him and paced a few steps towards the bed, then swung back around. She opened her mouth, shut it again, and hunched her shoulders. Kaidan waited with icy patience, listening to her pace behind him. Finally, he heard her footsteps behind him, felt her fingers on his back. “Kaidan.”

“Don’t,” he said icily, causing her to pull her hand back as if burned. “I know what you’re going to say - don’t you dare tell me that it doesn’t matter, that it’s unimportant.” He heard her intake of breath, counted to three, then nodded sharply and turned around. As she stared up at him across the inches, her expression held a mixture of frustration and guilt. She met him glare for glare for half a heartbeat, then cursed softly and turned away.

“It’s my eyes,” she muttered, staring blindly at the far wall. “Everything is… blurry, indistinct. Distorted. It makes me dizzy sometimes. The doctors think it has something to do with my implants, but they don’t know enough about what Cerberus did to me to try and fix it. Chakwas knows my implants though.”

Kaidan studied her stiff back thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the edge of the desk. “What about Miranda? Where is she? Surely she could have dealt with this by now.”

Shepard shook her head. “No one knows where she is. Hackett told me he’s left messages at drop points and issued a BOLO to units stationed around the globe, but she’s gone into hiding, and they can’t exactly broadcast why they need her.” Frustration shimmered in her voice, directed at the absent ex-Cerberus agent.

Silence fell again, pulsing uncomfortably between them as Shepard continued to stare blankly at the wall and Kaidan worked to rein in his temper. Finally, she dropped her chin and the tension faded from her frame, her shoulders slumping. “Look, Kaidan,” she sighed, turning around and not quite looking at him. “Maybe I should have told you, but… it’s been six months since I saw you. You thought I was dead; I had no idea what was happening to you. All I wanted to do was be with you, without… this… getting in the way. I’d hoped I could get it dealt with before it had to become an issue between us.”

“You know, Shepard,” Kaidan said conversationally after a humming moment, “you have this distressing habit of not telling me things for my own good. News flash, I don’t need you to protect me.” He could see the protest in her eyes, but continued on before she had a chance to respond. “I’m quite capable of making my own decisions. It’s hard to do that, however, when you’re only sharing half the facts.” He took a step closer, leaning in until his face was mere inches from hers. “Someday soon, you’re going to have to realize that this is a partnership, Shepard. Partners talk to each other. Partners tell each other things. You can’t keep hiding the bad from me. Trust me enough to believe that I can handle it. Trust _us_ enough to believe that we can handle it, _together_.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out - the words were jumbled in her head, and she couldn’t make sense of them enough to respond. Kaidan waited for a heartbeat, two, then nodded slowly. “You think on it, Shepard. I’m going to… go see what the rest of the crew is up to.”

Shepard watched mutely as Kaidan turned on heel and strode towards the door. It cycled open as he reached the sensor range, and he stepped through, pausing briefly on the other side. He murmured something, received a low, feminine reply in response. After another brief hesitation, he glanced back over his shoulder at her, then made a low comment and stepped away, into the hall.

Doctor Chakwas strode through the door, letting it cycle shut behind her as she came to a halt, studying the poleaxed commander. “The two of you have always set off such sparks,” she remarked, standing with her arms tucked behind her back. “It’s good to see some things never change.” The wry humor in the doctor’s tone brought a grimace to Shepard’s lips, and she swiped her foot at the carpet, folding her arms over her chest.

“He’s pissed at me because I didn’t tell him about my eyes. Also, hello, doctor.” Glassy green eyes lifted slightly to study Chakwas’ expression. The older woman had an indulgent look on her face, and she huffed out a breath. “Why is it I just want to spare someone I care about a little worry, and it’s some kind of crime?”

“Because you don’t exist in a vacuum, Shepard,” Chakwas replied simply, reaching out to run her hand along the commander’s arm. “You are strong, self-reliant woman. That’s not a bad thing. You spent years alone, not needing anyone else. That is a strength of yours, Shepard, but it’s also a weakness. In the past few years, you’ve touched a lot of lives, and there are people out there who care for you, who want to be able to be there for you. Just because you can stand alone, it doesn’t mean that you should.”

Shepard mulled over the doctor’s words as Chakwas drew her hand back, then activated her omni-tool. “So what you’re saying,” she murmured, lifting her chin as the doctor began to scan her, “is that I need to stop being so stubborn.”

“Precisely. Granted, I understand that that’s a tall order for you, commander, but if you can end a galactic threat that has loomed over us for the past several eons, I’m sure you can figure out a way to let Kaidan - and your friends - in.” Pulling back, Chakwas spent a few quiet moments regarding the data from her scans, lips pursing in thought.

“Well, doc, what’s the diagnosis?” Shepard didn’t like what she could make out of Chakwas’ face through the fog - the pensive look she thought she could discern didn’t bode well.

Doctor Chakwas turned off her omni-tool and took Shepard’s chin in her hand, turning the commander’s head as she stared at her eyes. “Well, there is definitely an issue with your ocular implants. They’ve been damaged. The problem is, I’m not entirely certain how to proceed. I have the diagnostic tools to calibrate your implants as necessary, but this damage is… beyond anything I’m familiar with.”

A chill slid down Shepard’s spine and she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to chase away the blurriness. “There’s nothing you can do?”

Chakwas straightened at the tremor of fear in the commander’s voice and slid her chin up to cup the younger woman’s cheek tenderly. “There is not much that _I_ can do, Commander, but there is someone who is intimately familiar with every implant that Cerberus used to bring you back.”

“Miranda,” Shepard breathed, biting her lip. “Admiral Hackett told me he’s been looking for her, but you know how she is. If she doesn’t want to be found, no one is going to be able to find her.”

Chakwas unexpectedly smiled and dropped her hand to Shepard’s shoulder. “Miranda is hiding because she thinks you’re dead. If I know her, as soon as she sees the press conference tomorrow, she’ll be here as soon as she possibly can. Have heart, Commander. We will get your eyes fixed, one way or another. I’ve spent too long keeping you hale and healthy to fail you now.”

Shepard closed her eyes, taking a deep breath against the tightness in her chest, then stepped into Chakwas, wrapping her arms around the older woman. Murmuring reassurances, the doctor held her friend, offering the comfort she knew the younger woman so desperately needed. When the commander finally eased back, rubbing at her throat, the doctor tilted her head to the side. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I - Kaidan,” Shepard sighed, scrubbing at her eyes. “I need to find Kaidan.”

Reaching out to stroke Shepard’s hair, Chakwas nodded approvingly. “He told me he was going to speak to Garrus. I presume you know where his room is?” At Shepard’s nod, she smiled. “Then I imagine you’ll find him there. Commander.” The doctor waited until the young woman lifted her head and met her eyes. “I can’t tell you what it means to have you back. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but you are the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had.”

“If I ever had a second mother,” Shepard replied hoarsely, wrapping her arms around the doctor again, “it’s you. Thank you, for everything.”

Holding Shepard close,  Chakwas gazed up at the ceiling, not bothering to blink away the tears streaming down her cheeks. “It has been a pleasure and an honor to serve with you, Commander,” she whispered, stroking the woman’s dark hair, “and I hope I’ll have opportunity to do so again in the future. But for now,” she added, pulling back and gripping the commander’s shoulders in her strong, elegant hands, “you have another problem to solve.”

“Yeah,” Shepard muttered, casting her eyes ceiling-ward. “Times like these, I wonder if the Reapers really were the biggest menace in the galaxy. Relationships are fucking minefields.”

“Yes,” Chakwas murmured with amusement as the commander strode past her and out the door, “it’s a good thing you’re so adept at dodging mines.”


	14. Letting Them In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard fesses up to Kaidan and Garrus.

Shepard paused outside of Garrus’s door, hand hovering over the chime trigger. She stared at the orange pulse of the lock that indicated that the door was sealed, and found herself tempted to just turn and walk away. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she steeled herself and pressed the chime. A moment passed, two, then the door cycled open, Garrus standing on the other side. She could see Kaidan behind him, reclining on the couch. “Shepard,” the turian murmured, unsurprised.

“I - can I talk to you? Both of you,” she added, her gaze sliding past the turian towards Kaidan. The major’s face was expressionless, his whiskey-hued eyes dark and thoughtful. Garrus turned slightly, tilting his head at the biotic, who nodded once and settled back into the cushions of the couch.

“Of course.” Stepping back, Garrus ushered Shepard past him, then sealed the door again once it had cycled shut. He moved into the room, taking the one chair before the couch. The commander paused, hands tucked into her pockets, and looked around the room, stalling.

Like Kaidan’s, it was considerably smaller than her own quarters, intended for single occupancy, rather than the double she had been given. There was enough room for a small couch, the bed, the chair, and a workstation, and not much else. Given the choice of taking a seat next to Kaidan or standing, she chose to stand - or rather, to pace, feet shuffling across the floor as she turned in a slow, broad circle. “I just got finished speaking with Doctor Chakwas,” she finally began. “The doctor agrees that damage to the ocular implants Cerberus used is what’s causing my vision problems.” Noting that Garrus showed no surprise over the revelation of her issue, she guessed that Kaidan had already informed him.

“What does that mean for you?” the turian finally asked, after the commander’s words had hung in a heavy silence for several moments. “Is she going to be able to repair them?”

Shepard paused mid-step, looking up from the floor into her friend’s face, noted the concern deep in his dark eyes. “She doesn’t know where she would even begin. Cerberus gave her diagnostics and repair programs to deal with problems that might have arisen during the course of our mission, but she doesn’t have anything to address this particular issue.”

Kaidan let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes briefly. “Damn,” he murmured, shaking his head. As he opened his eyes again and studied her, Shepard shifted uncomfortably. “What does she think we should do then?” he asked, keen chocolate gaze lingering on the commander’s face.

“She thinks after the conference tomorrow, Miranda will know I’m alive and come back,” Shepard replied, hunching her shoulders and staring at the floor. “She’s certain that she’ll be able to fix the problem.”

Silence pulsed between the three of them, before Garrus finally stirred, shaking his head slightly. “She’s probably right, you know, Shepard. Miranda wouldn’t just abandon you - if she knew you were alive, she’d be here.”

Shepard lifted her eyes to meet the turian’s, then shifted her gaze towards Kaidan, gaze roaming over his face. “I told her she didn’t have to run anymore, before - before that last mission. When I talked to her via uplink. I told her things would be different, that we’d be living on our own terms, and not on Cerberus’s. She agreed - but she ran. When it was over, she ran and hid.”

“You were dead, Shepard.” The catch in Kaidan’s voice belied his calm exterior, and he shifted on the couch, fingers curling around the armrest briefly before relaxing. “The world was in turmoil. The end was - abrupt. Few wars end with an absolute final battle. Many people left London in the aftermath - to their homes, to help other cities around the world begin to rebuild. You can’t assume she ran; it may be she just went somewhere without so many memories.”

“But why won’t she come back?” Shepard muttered, kicking at the carpet. “Hackett’s been leaving messages for her for months. Surely she realizes that the Fleet Commander of the Alliance Fleet wouldn’t be personally headhunting her unless he had a problem only she could solve.”

Garrus’s mandibles moved in a wry grin. “Shepard, it’s not like Hackett could just send out a burst broadcast saying ‘Hey Ms. Lawson, Commander Shepard’s alive and she needs your expertise. Come patch her up. Again.’. You have to trust her to do the right thing. She’s probably afraid they want to question her about Cerberus.”

Shepard paused mid-pace, eyeing Garrus, then huffed. She glanced down at the floor, then towards the couch - and came to the obvious conclusion as she noticed that Kaidan had left just enough room for her to sit. Crossing over, she threw herself down on the empty cushion. “I don’t even know if she’s alive, Garrus,” she muttered finally, voicing the true source of her surliness.

Kaidan stretched his arm along the back of the couch, then hooked his hand around Shepard’s shoulder, drawing her against him. She laid her head in the curve of his shoulder, the movement as natural as breathing, and he stroked his hand over her dark hair. “Shepard, Miranda is a survivor. She’s not going to live through all of the Illusive Man’s attacks only to die to some Reaper. She’s alive, and she’s probably somewhere she feels she can be of some help without running into the remnants of Cerberus or Alliance troops looking for revenge.”

“I pray you’re right,” she murmured, closing her eyes as the major’s skilled fingers glided over her hair. “It’s not just my eyes, it’s Miri. Damn it, I like her. I don’t want to lose another friend.” She turned her face into his throat, throwing her arm over his waist, and he ducked his head to kiss her hair. “I’ve lost too many already.”

“We all have, love,” he murmured, and she raised her head, surprise clear on her face as she gazed up at him. He offered one of his familiar half-smiles before pressing his lips against her forehead. She sighed, contentment lacing the sound, and laid her head once more upon his shoulder.

Garrus watched them - his two dearest friends - for a long moment, sprawled in his chair, content with the world. Then he pushed himself up and moved towards the workstation, rummaging around inside one of the drawers. He came back with three glasses and two bottles, one of which he kept, the other, along with two glasses, he handed to the humans. “I might have done a little raiding after the party,” he replied without apology to their curious glances.

Shepard straightened, taking one of the offered glasses, while Kaidan took the other and the bottle, turning it to read the label. “This is a good brandy,” he murmured, popping open the top and pouring some in his glass, then filling Shepard’s. Garrus filled his own with the turian liquor he had for himself, then set the bottle aside.

Lifting his glass, the turian regarded his two friends somberly. “To Legion,” he said softly.

“To Mordin,” Shepard replied, lifting her own glass until it rested beside Garrus’s upraised one.

Kaidan hesitated a moment, turning his glass, watching light drown in the amber-colored brandy, then he raised his glass to rest beside his friends’. “To Thane.” He felt the commander jerk slightly beside him; he didn’t have to look at her face to know his simple toast had touched her heart.

“To Ashley,” the three of them finished together, clinking the glasses together and throwing back the liquid. Shepard felt the fire race down her throat to curl in her belly, and she thought of those four lost friends, who had given their lives so that they might live.

Setting her glass aside with a shaky breath, Shepard clasped her hands together, staring off into nothing. Kaidan placed his beside hers, then reached out to curl his fingers around her fist. Garrus slowly spun his glass in his hands, watching the two humans keenly. “Not a day will ever go by where I won’t miss them,” the commander finally stated. “But I know they’re up there - by the sea, at the bar, in Heaven - watching over us. What we’ve done - what we’ll do - it’s as much for them as for anyone.”

“They made it all possible,” Garrus murmured, claws clicking on the glass as he continued to twirl it in his hands. “Every one of them sacrificed - willingly sacrificed - to make sure that the rest of us would live to do what had to be done. They were as important in their own ways to this war as anyone else.”

Kaidan cleared his throat, rubbing his fingers along the outside of Shepard’s. “I only knew Ashley well, but what I’ve heard of Mordin, what I saw of Legion and Thane - I can only be grateful that they could be there with you two when - when you needed them.”

“We have been blessed in our friends,” Garrus replied, inclining his head to Kaidan. “I especially. Lucky enough to have not one but two friends I would die for, that I know would die for me.”

Shepard parted her hands, curling the fingers of one into Kaidan’s as she reached across the distance between herself and Garrus, touching the turian’s knee. “There’s no Shepard without Vakarian,” she said softly, drawing a grin from the alien as he reached down to cover her hand with his claws.

“Truer words, Shepard. Truer words.” He finished off his drink, then set the glass aside and leaned back. Shepard’s lips twitched, and she sat back, curling against Kaidan. She felt his lips in her hair again, his thumb tracing idle circles around the outside of her hand. “So, now that the air has been cleared, is there anything you wanted to do on this, our last day of anonymity?”

“Actually,” Shepard said slowly, her fingers squeezing down on Kaidan’s, “I wanted to go see the rest of the crew.”

Kaidan nodded at once, squeezing back. “Of course. Did you want me to come with you, or - “ He broke off as she gave him an apologetic look and grinned. “Don’t worry, Shepard. I understand. If our esteemed turian colleague here has nothing better to do, maybe he’d care to join me in taking care of some last minute business before we’re shoved into the wolves’ den tomorrow.”

Garrus eyed Kaidan keenly, nodded. “Of course. I’m happy to help with whatever you need,” he replied smoothly, mandibles twitching. “Make sure you stop by to see Liara,” he suggested to Shepard as he pushed himself up, gathering the glasses and bottles. “She took losing you hard.”

“I will,” Shepard promised as she pushed herself to her feet. Acting on impulse, she stepped over to the turian, stopping his cleaning with a hand on his arm. As he looked at her inquiringly, she leaned in, pressing a kiss against his scarred cheek. She felt his mandibles twitch with surprise and pulled back to grin at him. “Thanks.”

“Ah, hmm,” was the only reply Garrus seemed capable off, watching with bemusement as she strode off towards the door. Kaidan pushed himself up, punching the turian lightly on the arm as he passed, catching Shepard’s elbow just before she triggered the door cycle.

She paused, glancing back over her shoulder at Kaidan as the major stepped up to her back. He leaned down to press a lingering kiss on her lips. “I’ll be here if you need me,” he murmured, fingers rubbing up and down her arm. “Just say my name,” he added, touching her omni-tool briefly.

She grinned at him, lids lowering. “Kaidan,” she murmured, and he chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. Then he stepped back, fingers sliding reluctantly from her wrist, and she backed out of the door, gaze lingering on him until the view was cut off as the door cycled shut between them.


End file.
